Two Halves: Storm of the Dominion
by Mirage159
Summary: Alduin was defeated, but a dangerous enemy still remains in Skyrim. After tragedy struck, Einarr is struggling to get on with his life, but memories haunt him every waking moment and he is let wondering. Was it really just an accident? Was it all planned? The Thalmor presence has grown stronger and action must be taken. Will the Dragonborn fight, or flee?
1. Chapter 1

_Here you have it! Chapter One of Storm of the Dominion!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order. I know many of you have been anxiously awaiting this and I was too excited to wait to release it!_

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Pain by Three Days Grace, Dear Agony by Breaking Benjamin, and Over and Over by Three Days Grace_

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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

**(5th of Morning Star 205 4E)**

_ There was fire everywhere._

_ Einarr found himself standing in the middle of a burning room and struggled to breathe, but the smoke invading his lungs was making it nearly impossible. Taking in his surroundings, he tried to figure out where in Oblivion he was. It was a large bedroom, with a small room to the side that was no more than a wall of fire. It had to be where the fire had started._

_ "Gods, please, no!"_

_ He froze immediately, recognizing the panicked voice right away. She appeared out of thin air, limping toward the door, her auburn hair singed and her face covered with smoke stains and burns. Her pale-blue eyes were wide with fear. It was Lassarina._

_ "Help!" she shouted, reaching the door and banging on it with her fists._

_ "Rina," he breathed, walking over to her, only to be intercepted by a wall of flames that materialized from the floor._

_ "No, no, no!" Einarr watched his sister try to kick the door down, but it was refusing to budge. "Let me out! Please!"_

_ Einarr couldn't stand watching this, but he had no way to get to her. "Lassarina!"_

_ Then came the sound that chilled him to the very core. The sound of a loud crack from above. He looked up at the same time as his sister, just in time to see a large chunk of the roof start to fall toward her._

_ "No!" he roared right before the blazing debris collapsed and buried his sister beneath it._

**oOo**

The feel of the bed jostling jolted Einarr awake and he lifted his head, alarmed. He breath was coming out in short, panicked gasps and his whole body covered in a sheen of sweat. Glancing around the room, he looked around for any signs of fire, but only saw the small one coming from the fire pit, safely contained. The bed shifted once more and he stiffened again, only to relax when he breathed in the familiar scent of Ysolda beside him. He let his head fall back onto the pillow, releasing a heavy sigh and wondering how in Oblivion he had gotten to this point.

_That's obvious, _his conscience told him. _This is you avoiding dealing with your grief._

"Shut up," he muttered tightly, still feeling the fear from his nightmare.

"Hmm?" Ysolda mumbled sleepily, opening her bleary eyes and looking at him. "You say something?"

"Nay, go back to sleep."

She was more than happy to comply, considering that she was still half-asleep, and rolled onto her other side, exposing her bare back to him. Einarr averted his gaze and stared up at the ceiling, his mind swirling with thoughts. He could sense dawn was nearing but would rather hide away in Ysolda's house all day, today of all days. But then Ysolda would want to stay with him, so he resigned to just spend the day at the forge rather than deal with the clingy woman.

He had never intended to involve himself with Ysolda, despite his promise to his deceased Khajiit wife, Faraya; but the events a little two months ago had changed things. His younger sister, Lassarina, had died when the meadery down the road had caught fire. She had been trapped inside, and when the guards found her they said the roof had collapsed on her, breaking her neck on impact. He supposed he should have been thankful that she died quickly rather than having to suffer the agony of burning to death. Even now, whenever he closed his eyes he could still see her broken and charred corpse. Her body had been burned to the point where no one could recognize her-all hair scorched away, the leather of her armor melted into her skin. The only thing that remained intact on her person was the wedding ring that her husband Vilkas had given her the day he proposed to her.

His sister's death had been so unexpected that Einarr didn't know how to deal with the grief. He would spend days on end at the Bannered Mare, drinking away his sorrows and snarling at any of his friends that tried to comfort or stop him. The only person that didn't shy away from his aggressive temper had been Ysolda, who didn't try to stop him but merely offered an alternative. It had become a regular thing for him, spending every night at Ysolda's house once he was sure Kiraya had gone to bed and forgetting all his grief for a while with sex. It was sad that their relationship was just that: sex and nothing more. He had no feelings for Ysolda and didn't imagine that would change any time soon. For now, she was just a convenient way to avoid dealing with his sister's death, and that was enough for him.

But today was different. Today his sister would be on his mind constantly because it was her birthday. She would have been twenty-four and likely spending the day with Vilkas and their children. Knowing his sister's husband, Vilkas would have probably doted on her all day just so her smile would never waver. How would _he_ deal with today?

Ever since Lassarina's death, Vilkas had become a recluse, never leaving their house for anything. Einarr had been avoiding the place where the couple had built a life together, just so he wouldn't have to deal with any fresh pain, but Farkas had begged and pleaded with him to go and talk to Vilkas two weeks ago.

Steeling himself, he had gone to Breezehome and was shocked at the shell of a man Vilkas had become. He had been alone in the house, sitting in front of the fire pit, mead bottle in hand and several empty ones scattered around his feet, simply staring at the fire with dull, lifeless eyes. It made Einarr wonder if that was what he had looked like when Faraya had died.

Farkas had said that after Lassarina had died, Vilkas had become detached from their children. Faolan and Lyanna, having only turned two a couple of weeks before, didn't know what had happened, didn't know that their mother had died. The twins had been inconsolable, starving for their father's attention, but he wouldn't even look at them. Farkas and his wife, Avyanna, were forced to step in and be foster parents to their niece and nephew, despite the fact that they were caring for two children of their own. Einarr honestly couldn't understand why Vilkas, a man who loved his children more than life itself, would neglect them this way.

"I keep seeing her in them," was Vilkas's slurred reply when he asked. "Every time they look at me, every time I look into their eyes, all I see is her. It's a cruel and constant reminder that she's not here anymore, Einarr."

While Einarr thought Vilkas's behavior was wrong, he would be lying if he said he didn't feel pain every time he saw his sister's children. Lyanna was the spitting image of Lassarina when she was a baby; and while Faolan took after his father, he still had his mother's eyes—pale blue irises that were clearer than Skyrim's sky and were just as expressive as Lassarina's had been.

Now restless, Einarr swung his legs out of the bed, shifting the mattress and waking Ysolda.

"You're leaving already?" she yawned.

"Aye," he told her as he pulled on his trousers. "I need to be back at Jorrvaskr before anyone wakes up."

Ysolda's eyes narrowed and she frowned at him. "Why do you have to keep sneaking around? Why can't we just say we're together? We're both adults with no commitment."

"Maybe _you _don't, but I have a thirteen-year-old daughter who I'd rather not involve in this right now."

"This. You keep calling it 'this.' Tell me, Einarr, what is _this _we have?"

Einarr sat on the edge of the bed and raked his fingers through his hair. He had enough to deal with; being in charge of the Companions, grieving his sister, struggling to forget the terrible nightmare he had. He didn't need to deal with Ysolda's bullshit too.

"Ysolda, I'd rather not have this discussion right now."

"Fine!" she shouted, grabbing his tunic off the chair beside the bed and throwing it at his face. "Just get out of here, then!"

"Gladly," he muttered as he pulled it on and left the house. Once he was a safe distance away he growled, "I knew getting involved with her was a bad idea."

He grumbled angrily to himself the entire walk back to Jorrvaskr, cursing himself for getting himself into this situation. But he rationalized that their relationship wasn't serious, and if she wanted something more, then she'd have to start looking elsewhere. He had promised Faraya back in Sovngarde that he'd try and love again, but he didn't love Ysolda, she was just someone who could comfort him when everything started feeling dark.

"Woman is just damned crazy," he told himself skirting around to the back of the mead hall just in case anyone was awake early and already in the common area.

"That generally seems to be the shared opinion among men," chuckled a voice on the porch.

Einarr jumped slightly, but relaxed when he realized who it was. "Julius, you're up rather early."

The Altmer shrugged and took a puff of his pipe. "I sometimes wake up in the middle of the night and come out to see the stars."

Julius Valterayn, a tall Altmer with tanned golden skin, shoulder-length black hair he kept neat and combed, and amber eyes, was the newest member of the Companions, having been recruited only a week before when he appeared at their doorstep requesting to join. Einarr had Aela put in her opinion when they talked to him about why he wanted to join and then had him test his mettle with Athis. The Dunmer had vouched for his fighting skills, and with that, the Altmer became part of the Companions. The presence of the high elf brought a bit of unease to some of the other Companions, mainly Finverior and Vignar, two people who were constantly arguing with one another but shared a common distrust of the Thalmor. But Julius had reassured everyone that the last people he would ally himself with would be the Thalmor, and that was all Einarr needed to know.

"Having trouble with a woman?" Julius asked curiously.

Einarr shifted uncomfortably, not too fond of discussing this issue with their newest whelp. "Aye, but I'm not really in the mood to talk about it, and I'd rather you didn't say anything, Julius."

"I didn't mean to pry, Harbinger; it's just that when you come to be my age, you know a lot about the world and what she has to offer. But I can keep a secret."

"Thank you. And please, call me Einarr. I can't stand being addressed with a title. I'm just a normal man."

"Others would beg to differ, Dragonborn. But I can understand that feeling, so if you wish to be called by your name, then that is how I shall address you."

Einarr rolled his eyes a bit. While it was common knowledge around Skyrim now that he was the Dragonborn and that he defeated Alduin over four months ago with Lassarina, he still hated the attention he received from everyone. Many revered him as if he were some sort of big hero, when in truth he was only looking out for his family when he fought the World-Eater. He wasn't thinking of Skyrim when he thrust his sword through the dragon's skull; he was thinking of his daughter, his sister and her children, his friends in Jorrvaskr who had become like family over time. Being referred to as the Dragonborn now . . . it left a bad taste in his mouth. It made him think of the prophecy that came from an Elder Scroll, how the last Dragonborn would defeat Alduin. When he and Lassarina killed Alduin, they thought the prophecy had merely been misinterpreted, but in reality it just hadn't finished.

Lassarina had died . . . and now Einarr was the last Dragonborn.

**oOo**

Fair skin. Dark auburn hair that framed a delicate, heart-shaped face. Soft, pink lips that begged to be kissed. Pale blue eyes full of love and happiness staring back at him. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, fingernails lightly scratching the nape and sending little rivulets of pleasure through his body. Her warm, sweet scent enveloped him-pine trees and snowberries. To him, she was absolutely perfect.

Vilkas let his hands glide across her smooth skin and gently pressed his lips to hers, enjoying the intimate moment with his wife as long as he possibly could before it was interrupted. Lassarina was melting beneath his touch, moaning softly, music to his ears.

"Vilkas," she breathed his name.

"Lassarina," he whispered back, kissing the sensitive spot on her neck, just below her ear.

"Vilkas!"

Vilkas jolted awake and sat up, immediately regretting it when the stab of pain shot through his brain. He let himself fall back in bed and rested his head on the pillow, instinctively reaching out to Lassarina's side of the bed, seeking out her warmth, only to meet with empty space. He lifted his head slightly and felt his heart break just like it did every morning when he woke up and remembered that his wife was no longer there. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he brought her pillow closer and buried his face in it, inhaling the scent on it.

It was barely there anymore. Lassarina's sweet scent was stale and starting to fade from his life. The warm presence she brought to their home was all but gone and the only reminder that he had that she ever existed was their children and the wedding ring he had salvaged from her charred body the day she died. The ring he now wore on a leather cord around his neck. He lifted the small ring off his chest and stared at it, the pale sapphires sparkling just like her eyes always would.

A loud pounding at his bedroom door snapped him out of his thoughts, and he heard his brother calling his name on the other side. "Vilkas! Open the damned door!"

Growling softly, Vilkas threw the fur blanket off his body and slowly got out of bed, being mindful not to aggravate the pounding headache his hangover was causing. Pulling on his trousers he made his way to the door and unlocked it, opening it enough to see his twin brother's face glaring at him.

"What do you want?" he asked gruffly.

Farkas face contorted into a look of disgust and he waved the air between them with his hand. "Gods damn it, man, you reek of mead and vomit."

"And?"

"Why in Oblivion did you have your door locked? What if the twins needed something?"

"That's precisely why I had the door locked, so they _couldn't _get in." He peered over his brother's shoulder. "Where are they, anyway?"

Farkas shook his head and snorted. "You're a piece of work, you know that?" He forced the door the rest of the way open and stepped inside the bedroom, frowning at the sight of all the mead bottles scattered around the room and the bucket full of bile in the corner of the room. "Probably best they didn't come in after all. Wouldn't want their earliest memories to be of their father acting like a drunken fool."

"Sod off," Vilkas growled, sitting on the edge of the bed. "They haven't seen shit."

"Of course not, because you keep yourself locked in this house while Avyanna and I take care of them. Something _you _should be doing."

"I didn't ask you to take care of them."

"You didn't need to; Anna and I felt like we didn't have a fucking choice. Better they stay with us than be ignored by their father."

"Why are you here, Farkas?"

His brother stared at him for several moments before sighing and holding out an envelope. "A courier came by with a letter for you. He tried delivering it to you personally but you didn't come to the door, so they brought it to me. Came from Dawnstar."

Vilkas looked up and snatched the letter from Farkas's hands, breaking the seal and skimming over the words on the page.

_Vilkas,_

_ My contacts have spotted Mallus slinking around the territories that the Imperial army have claimed. Seems like he's avoiding taking one step into Stormcloak territory (Gee, I wonder why). If you'd like to go through with this, meet me in Rorikstead in a week and we'll start hunting the bastard down._

_ -Daine_

_Finally, _Vilkas thought to himself, rising from the bed and walking over to the chest he kept his armor in.

"What are you doing?" Farkas demanded.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm getting ready to leave."

Farkas grabbed the letter from where Vilkas left it on the bed and read it. "You're hunting down Mallus?"

"He needs to pay for what he did to Lassarina," Vilkas explained, pulling on a tunic before strapping on his chest plate.

"Vilkas, you don't know that Mallus killed her."

"Nay, but I _do _know that she died inside his meadery and he came out virtually unscathed. Lassarina had gone to deal with him for withholding money from Maven; he knew she was coming and must have set the whole thing up."

"You're just making assumptions! For all you know, the fire was an accident!"

"And for all _you_ know, this was all planned! And even if, _if, _the fire was an accident, he still left her in there!"

"You can't just kill a man because Lassarina died in his home! He could be innocent!"

"Don't worry, I plan on talking to him before I slit his throat."

Farkas growled and started to pace. "So you're just going to leave?"

"Aye."

"And what about the twins?"

"I'll come back, if that's what you're worried about. I just need you and Avyanna to look after them while I'm gone."

"We have our own children too, you idiot! Avyanna is stressed enough with Trystane and Kellen without having to worry about Faolan and Lyanna too!"

"Then get someone to help you! Tilma, Rona, even Kiraya!"

"Are you even thinking straight? You can't just forget about your responsibilities and disappear for gods know how long! You need to take care of your children, Vilkas! Do you think Lassarina would be all right with you doing this?"

Vilkas finished putting on his armor and turned to glare at his brother. "When Mercer killed our first child, Lassarina got her vengeance. She was gone for weeks at a time when she needed to deal with Alduin. Now it's my turn to get _my _vengeance."

"And do you remember what Lassarina did after she got her vengeance? She disappeared, for _six months_! Are you going to do the same thing?"

"What would you have me do? Just ignore it and let him get away with it?"

"Aye, that's exactly what you should do!"

"Would you do the same thing if it had been Avyanna? Be honest, if your wife had died like Lassarina had, would you just ignore it and move on?"

"Aye, I would because it wouldn't just be about me! It would also be about our two sons who have no one else to depend on! It's about your twins, who have lost their mother, and all they have left is their father, who they never see because he's too busy drinking himself numb every night!"

"I _need _to do this, Farkas!"

"Why?"

"So I can fucking move on!" Vilkas finally shouted, his voice reverberating off the walls. "If I don't do this, if I don't look this man in the eyes and make him pay for taking Lassarina away from me and the twins, I'll be living with this poison for the rest of my life!"

Farkas stared at him and sighed, but said nothing.

"You have no idea what it's like, Farkas. Waking up every morning and expecting her to be there, only to realize that she's not there and that she's never going to be there ever again. You'll never see her again, you'll never touch her, you'll never hear her because she's dead."

"Vilkas, I understand how you're feeling–"

"Nay, you don't! Your wife is alive! You get to wake up to her every morning instead of an empty bed! Your children don't look at you asking where their mother is! You don't have to dread the day when they notice that they don't have a mother and ask you what happened to her!" He paused and took a deep breath, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears that had been starting to form in his eyes. "You know what breaks my heart the most about this whole situation, Farkas? The fact that Faolan and Lyanna probably won't even remember what Lassarina looked like. The fear that _I_ might one day forget what she looks like."

"Don't think like that, brother."

"I can't help it."

"Lyanna looks exactly like Lassarina. So long as you have her and Faolan, you'll never forget her."

Vilkas pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes and laughed bitterly. "Aye, that's a blessing. I wonder how long before she realizes I can't look at her without thinking of her mother and feel nothing but pain and sadness every time."

"Is that the real reason you've been neglecting them?"

He was silent for several moments. "They have her eyes, Farkas. All I see is her whenever I look at them. I love them to death, but it's just too damned hard being around them and pretending nothing's wrong."

Farkas stared at his brother, still frowning, but his eyes were filled with sympathy. "Vilkas, do you really need to leave them?"

"I need closure. Without it, I don't think I'll ever feel better."

There was silence before Farkas nodded and placed a hand on Vilkas's shoulder. "All right, I'll pretend to understand why you have to do this. But you have to do two things for me. You have to spend some time with your children before you leave and you have to promise that once you've taken care of this, you'll come back right away. Faolan and Lyanna already lost their mother; they don't need to lose their father too."

Vilkas nodded. "Aye, I promise I'll come back."

"Good. Now, let's go back to my house so you can spend some time with your children."

Vilkas nodded and followed Farkas out of the house and over to his. Before they even stepped through the threshold, the sound of the twins laughing reached his ears and he felt guilty from the knowledge that it had been more than a week since he heard that sound. Inside, he saw that Faolan and Lyanna were busy with their cousin Trystane, playing with a pile of wooden blocks. Faolan and Trystane would stack them up neatly and Lyanna would then knock them over, making themselves giggle and laugh at the whole process before starting over again. It brought a smile to his lips, and he just stood there watching until Lyanna noticed him.

"Papa!" she cried out happily, rising onto her feet and running over to him.

Faolan smiled and ran after his sister, both of them hugging his leg and looking up at him with her pale-blue eyes. Vilkas forced himself to ignore the dread that was threatening to wash over him and knelt to pull his children into a hug. He had to stop thinking the way he was and stop punishing his children because they were born with their mother's eyes.

"Papa, where Mama?" Faolan asked, looking at the door expectantly.

"Mama gone long time," Lyanna pointed out.

Vilkas tensed and he heard Farkas suck in a breath beside him. He had no idea how to answer them, but forced himself to say something.

"Mama went to live with your big brother, Kodlak," he answered tightly.

"Where dat?" Faolan wondered.

"Sovngarde."

"We visit?" Lyanna asked innocently.

Vilkas took in a deep breath and felt as if someone was crushing his heart. "Maybe someday."

"Vilkas," Avyanna greeted him icily, coming down from upstairs and holding Kellen in her arms. "This is a surprise. I thought you'd still be locked in the house for a few more days, drinking yourself to death."

He narrowed his eyes and glared at her. Avyanna had made it quite clear that she was angry at how he had been neglecting the twins. He may have been drunk the day she and Farkas came and took them to their house, but he remembered how she had shouted at him through the door and called him every insulting thing she could think of.

"Farkas told me I should come see them before I leave," he explained.

Her hazel eyes widened a bit and she glanced at Farkas before glaring back at Vilkas. "What do you mean, 'leave'?"

"There's something I need to do. I'll be back as soon as I can manage, though."

"So that's it, then? You're just going to abandon your children?"

Farkas frowned and took a step toward his wife. "Anna–"

"I can only imagine how upset and disappointed Lassarina would be if she knew about this. To think she married such a selfish and weak-willed man."

Vilkas rose, his eyes glittering with fury. "Woman, you better hold your tongue before I make you."

"Just leave, Vilkas. They'd be better off without you if this is how you're going to be the rest of your life!"

Vilkas took a step toward Avyanna, but Farkas intercepted him. He was clearly disappointed in what his wife was saying, but he'd still protect her from anyone, even his own brother. Letting out an angry snort, he knelt in front of Faolan and Lyanna.

"I'll be back soon," he promised them softly, giving them a false smile. Standing up, he looked at his brother. "Take care of them."

Farkas nodded. "Aye, I will."

Without another word, Vilkas stepped out of the house, ignoring the twins' disappointed cries. They didn't want him to leave, but he had to deal with Mallus. Accident or murder, he needed to make someone accountable for Lassarina's death and Mallus was the ideal target.

_He'll pay for what he did to you, Lassarina, _he swore silently, pulling the ring out from under his armor and staring it. _You _will _be avenged._

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><p><em>Einarr is grief banging and Vilkas is under the belief that revenge will make his grief go away. Sigh... What have I done to them?<em>

_Interesting fun fact: Einarr was inspired by Dean Winchester from Supernatural._

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Chapter Two everyone! Don't you just love me?_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Riot and I Hate Everything About You by Three Days Grace_

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><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Two<strong>**

****(9 Sun's Dawn, 4E 205)****

"Rise and shine, Windblade!" shouted a Thalmor soldier as he threw a bucketful of freezing water through the bars.

Thorolf barely reacted, his body only tensing from the cold that enveloped him. After being their prisoner for twenty-seven years, there was little the Thalmor could do to get a rise out of him anymore. Having a bucket of ice-cold water thrown on him bothered him as much a burr snagged on his clothing. Raising his hand to his face, he pushed away some damp strands of his dark-gray hair from his face and turned to look up at the male Altmer leering at him.

"That was your bath for the week," the soldier sneered. "Feel clean enough or would you like another bucket?"

Thorolf didn't answer, choosing to ignore the elf and look down at his own feet. The soldier clearly didn't like being ignored because a moment later another bucket of water was thrown on him. But still Thorolf did nothing. He just sat there, now dripping wet and freezing, but calm and collected.

"Luthon, leave Windblade alone!" shouted a female soldier further down the cell block.

"He's so boring," Luthon complained. "He doesn't react to anything we do to him."

"He's been imprisoned for nearly thirty years. He probably broke a long time ago."

_Or so you think, _Thorolf thought to himself.

Nearly every Thalmor Thorolf ever encountered in his imprisonment thought he was broken, but the truth was he wasn't. They had tortured him for years, desperately trying to get him to reveal any useful information-location of living Blades members and bases, if the Blades were planning to retaliate against them, where his wife and child were. But not once in twenty-seven years had Thorolf talked. He had endured every type of physical and emotional pain all for the sake of protecting the ones he cared about, until they had finally given up and decided to leave him to rot in a cell.

"Why bother keeping him this long, then?" Luthon asked. "If they don't need him anymore, why not just kill him?"

Thorolf had wondered that very same thing many times throughout the years and had only just recently discovered the answer. The Thalmor could still make use of him, possibly as a hostage or political bargaining chip. If what he'd heard the guards whispering about the other day was true, then Thorolf and any other Blades member alive was extremely valuable right now. The dragons had returned.

_I wonder if Esbern is alive, _he thought to himself. _He'd probably go up to everyone who ever doubted him and say, "I told you so!"_

Thorolf would probably be one of the first people Esbern said that to. Years ago, when he had first listened to the mans raving about how one day the dragons would return to Tamriel, he had thought him insane and idiotic. He would make fun of poor Esbern with the other Blades in the dining hall and laugh at imitations they would all do of the doomsayer. It was only when Freyja had stepped in and slapped him across the face that he had stopped disrespecting the older man.

_Freyja . . ._

He missed her every single day that went by. Being apart from his beloved wife so many years had been one of the hardest parts of being imprisoned. Ever since they were children, Freyja had always been there, like an annoying little shadow. All he had ever wanted back then was for her to leave him alone. Ironic that the one thing he wanted more than anything right now was to have her back. But being apart from her wasn't nearly as hard as not even knowing what had become of her.

She had been the one constant thing in many of his torture sessions. Elenwen and other Thalmor who had been assigned to extract information from him had often brought her up to try and break him. First they had threatened him, saying if he didn't give them any useful information they would kill Freyja. He didn't talk. Then they had demanded to know where Freyja was, making Thorolf realize that his family had managed to evade the Thalmor forces and hide once again. He wasn't going to risk their safety, so once again he didn't talk. They had even tried to tempt him, saying that if he surrendered the location of surviving Blades, they'd let him go and allow him to live peacefully with his family.

_They had been desperate by that point, and I still didn't talk, _he thought proudly.

But then came the cruelest form of torture they had ever inflicted upon him. They had stopped talking. For years he had grown accustomed to his interrogators using his wife as a bargaining chip, or demanding to know her location–it's how he knew she was still alive and safe. But when they stopped torturing him and no longer spoke of Freyja, it nearly drove Thorolf insane. He had no way of knowing how she was, whether she was alive or dead, or whether their son Einarr was alive or dead.

Different scenarios played in his head for months on end. Freyja and Einarr had gotten caught by the Thalmor and were imprisoned just like him, forced to go through painful torture every minute of every day. The Thalmor found them and just killed them on sight, a quick death. That was the kindest scenario he could come up with. The cruelest one that played in his mind was that Freyja had moved on with her life. She would have fallen in love with another man, despite the fact that he, her husband, was still very much alive. Einarr would have forgotten him and would have seen this new man as his father. He would have just become a distant memory and a faded face in their minds.

Just thinking of his family brought a pang to his heart. Thorolf wanted nothing more than to know what had become of Freyja and Einarr. It had been three months since Elenwen had him brought back to Skyrim from Alinor, and he hadn't spoken to her since the day he was brought in. But he had seen her. Every two weeks she would come to this Thalmor prison and walk by his cell, pausing briefly to stare at him with that cruel smile on her lips before continuing on her way to the cell at the end of the hall. He knew that whoever was in that cell was extremely important, because Elenwen never wasted her time torturing simple foot soldiers. The cell was also more secure than the one Thorolf or the other prisoners were stuck in. Instead of bars, it was a strong wooden door with a smaller door near the base that was only large enough to shove food and drink through, and it was reinforced with _two _door bars and several locks.

_Elenwen must really want to make sure they never get out_, Thorolf thought, getting to his feet and leaning against the bars so he could look at the reinforced cell.

No one knew who it was that was in there, and the Thalmor soldiers weren't allowed to carry the keys to the cell. Elenwen carried them herself at all times, even though she only spent at most four days out of the month in the prison. She went to the cell every single time she visited, and he would hear the sounds of her torturing the person for hours. The Thalmor bitch would have soldiers bringing her all types of devices to use on the prisoner: whips, knives, hot brands. The only thing Thorolf knew about the prisoner was that they worshiped Talos, since the first time they were tortured, the familiar sight of a Talos brand came past his cell.

He had been branded almost immediately after his capture. Thorolf still remembered the day, and it made him sick every single time. They had him hanging off a beam from his wrists, his feet hovering just inches off the floor. Elenwen had come into his cell with a few soldiers and allowed them to beat him for several agonizing minutes until his whole body had been radiating with pain. Then she held up the brand to her palm, heating it up with a Flame spell until the iron burned white. The feeling of the hot iron connecting with the skin of his back had been seared into his mind, and even today he could still feel the agonizing burn.

Suddenly the door to the torture chamber opened and another Thalmor stepped into the cell block. "Luthon, Nidhes, new prisoner coming in! I'll need some help getting him into the cell."

"Good, maybe this one will be more entertaining than Windblade here," Luthon chuckled as he headed over to the soldier to help.

Thorolf glared at Luthon as he walked away and met the gaze of the Nord woman across the way. She had talked to him on the few occasions where the guards had been out of earshot and they could speak freely. Her name was Assa, a soldier for the Stormcloaks from Windhelm who had gotten captured in an ambush in The Rift about two weeks prior. She looked to be in her early thirties, with pale blonde hair and gray eyes. He could tell she was a pretty thing, despite the mottled bruises on her face, and would be a tough opponent in a fight, judging from fit but still feminine build. She was a joy to talk to whenever they got a chance. She told him about her daughter back in Windhelm and would tear up on occasion, praying to Talos that she got the chance to see her again.

"Poor sod," Thorolf sighed.

Assa frowned. "I wonder if it's someone I know."

Luthon and the other soldier came in, pushing forward a tall Nord man. He was powerfully built and looked to be in his mid-thirties, despite the head full of light-gray hair and matching beard. He looked furious about being in shackles and growled every time one of the soldiers touched him. They placed him in the cell beside Assa's and locked him in before walking off.

"We'll deal with you after we've had something to eat, Gray-Mane," Luthon taunted the new prisoner. "Maybe we'll bring you back of crust of bread."

"You can take that bread and shove it straight up your arse, you Thalmor piece of shit!" Gray-Mane barked aggressively.

Luthon merely laughed and started walking away. "He's going to be fun to torture. Nidhes, are you coming?"

The female soldier at the end of the hall by the secured cell nodded and followed her companions out, glaring at each prisoner as she went. Once they were gone, a universal sigh of relief rose from each prisoner.

"I thought they'd never leave," complained an Argonian named Sinks-in-Dark-Waters.

"Is there any way out of here?" the new prisoner asked.

"Let me put it to you in simple terms," Thorolf rasped. "I've been a prisoner to the Thalmor for twenty-seven years. I've tried to escape before and have never been successful."

"Luthon called you Gray-Mane," Assa commented. "Any chance you're related to Eorland Gray-Mane?"

"Aye, he's my father," he replied. "My name is Thorald."

"How did you end up here?"

"Damned Battle-Borns, they convinced the Thalmor that my family had ties to the Stormcloaks and aided them in my capture."

"Do you think anyone will come looking for you?"

Thorald sighed and leaned heavily against the bars. "I'm not sure. My brother will suspect something happened and my mother won't be convinced I'm dead unless she sees my body herself. So . . . I'm not sure. Maybe help will come. My family might ask the Harbinger of the Companions to investigate my disappearance–they're close friends, but he's been in mourning since his sister died."

"Aye, I heard about that," Assa suddenly gasped. "She died in a fire. Jarl Ulfric was devastated to hear the news."

"The whole meadery went up in flames. Her body was burned past the point of recognition. I attended the funeral with my father. Her husband didn't bother to show up, and I've never seen Einarr look so grief-stricken."

Thorolf looked at Thorald in shock. "What was his name?"

The younger Nord arched a brow at him. "Einarr. Why do you ask?"

Thorolf was probably clutching at straws, Einarr was a common name after all, but he had to ask. "How old is this Einarr?"

"Thirty-five, I think."

"Do you know his birthday?"

Thorald nodded, a frown on his face. "Aye, and nearly everyone in Skyrim probably knows it too, since that's the day his sister died. Thirtieth of Frostfall."

Thorolf covered his mouth with his hand and struggled to keep his shaking legs steady. The relief he felt at that moment . . . he could cry. He knew that this Einarr was his son. That's when he processed the other thing Thorald and Assa were speaking of. Einarr's sister had died. Had Freyja moved on and had a child with another man? Or was the woman who had died his daughter? He was almost afraid to ask, but he needed to. Unfortunately, he was interrupted by the mystery prisoner banging angrily on her cell door.

"What in Oblivion?" Thorald muttered, staring at the cell through the bars.

"Ignore it," Sinks-in-Dark-Waters advised him. "They do that every time the guards leave."

"Who's in there?"

"We don't know and the guards aren't allowed to talk about it," Assa answered him. "The only one allowed inside the cell is Elenwen, and she'll stay in there for hours torturing the poor soul."

The prisoner slammed against the door again and Thorolf sighed. They were only injuring themselves. There was no way they were getting out.

"Enough!" Thorolf commanded. "You're only using up what little strength you have. I've seen how much you're given to eat. You're better off saving your energy to withstand Elenwen's torture when she comes around."

As usual, there was no reply. Not only was the prisoner a mystery, they were also silent.

"Doesn't he or she ever speak?" Thorald asked curiously.

"That person arrived maybe a day after me," Thorolf explained. "That was three months ago. Haven't heard a peep come from that cell, even when Elenwen is torturing them. Doesn't even scream."

Thorald frowned and turned to the cell again. "Can you hear us? Hit the door once for aye, twice for nay."

"We've tried that before," Assa said. "They never rep-"

There was a single knock.

Everyone in the cell block was silent from shock.

"Why does that person only reply to you?" Sinks-in-Dark-Waters demanded.

"I don't know," Thorald shrugged.

"Maybe they know you," Assa suggested. "Ask them."

"Do I know you?"

One knock. Yes.

"Have we ever spoken?"

One knock again. Yes.

"It's be nice to know if they were a man or woman," Thorolf put in gruffly.

Thorald nodded. "Are you a man?"

Two knocks. No. So their mystery prisoner at least had a gender now.

"Can you figure out who she is?" Assa asked.

"Aye, cause I haven't met a woman before," Thorald replied sarcastically. "How in Oblivion am I supposed to know who she is?"

Suddenly the torture room door opened and they all fell silent. Thorolf looked over and saw Elenwen stepping into the cell block, a seedy looking Imperial behind her.

"I need security!" the Imperial told Elenwen, his voice panicked. "I have someone hunting me down!"

"I owe you nothing, Maccius," Elenwen replied in her irritating high-born accent.

"I did what you asked of me damn it! I deserve some compensation!"

"I let you walk away with your life. _That _was your compensation for your services. You should be thankful I gave you that much, with how badly you messed up the simple task."

"And I apologized for that!"

"Whatever happens to you from this point on is none of my concern. If you're that concerned for your life, hire a mercenary to guard you. Now leave; I need to see to my prisoners."

A soldier appeared and started to yank the Imperial named Maccius away. Once out of sight, Elenwen stepped into the cell block and slowly made her way down, smiling cruelly at each prisoner she passed. When she came to Thorolf's cell, she paused and looked at him. Normally, Thorolf glared at the woman, but today he smirked at her, something that set her off edge and arch a delicate brow.

"You seemed pleased with yourself today, Thorolf," she murmured. "May I ask why?"

Thorolf was debating on whether or not to answer her. Part of him wanted to rub it in her face that he now knew one vital piece of information she had been purposely withholding from him, but that would be too easy. He wanted her to be driven mad, to get angry, and the best way to do that was to leave her wondering.

"That's for me to know and you to find out, Elenwen," he replied smugly.

Elenwen's cruel and confident facade faltered for a brief second and she glanced over her shoulder at Thorald Gray-Mane, who had let out a snort of amusement from the smug look on Thorolf's face.

"Now, now, Thorolf, do I need to cut into you to get you to talk?" she asked, her voice taking on a sickeningly sweet tone.

"You can kill me for all I care," he chuckled. "I could die happy knowing what I know now."

"As if he would talk to some Thalmor bitch," Thorald Gray-Mane added.

Elenwen stiffened a bit and turned to the torture room. "Angon. Could you please give Thorald Gray-Mane the standard welcome to my prison?"

The Thalmor interrogator appeared at the doorway with his assistant, the torturer, by his side. "Of course, Lady Elenwen."

Both Altmer walked over to Thorald's cell and began to handle him roughly, punching him and yanking on his shackles as they moved him toward the torture room, Thorald struggling and fighting back the entire way.

"Make sure you break him," Elenwen added. "Physically and spiritually."

They disappeared into the adjoining room, and Thorolf glared daggers at the woman in front of him.

"I require some help moving a prisoner as well," Elenwen called out, staring into Thorolf's brown eyes as she said it.

Two soldiers came to Elenwen's side, and for a moment, Thorolf thought she would tell them to take him to the torture room, but she surprised him when she handed them a certain set of keys and pointed to the secured cell. Both soldiers froze for a moment, looking at Elenwen with apprehension in their eyes before nodding and walking over to the cell. Thorolf didn't take his eyes off the bitch in front of him, and she didn't look away, either. The cell door down the hall opened and he could hear the sounds of the soldiers struggling with the prisoner, as well as the sounds of muffled screams.

"Take her to the torture room," Elenwen commanded.

The prisoner grunted in pain, and the sound of a punch echoed through the cell block. Then came the sound of a body and chains being dragged along the cold floor. Elenwen smiled cruelly at Thorolf one last time before she looked away and stared at the prisoner. Thorolf allowed himself to look away at that moment, seeing the mysterious prisoner come into view and seeing her for the first time. His whole body tensed and he looked back at Elenwen, seeing the shadows of pure evil in her golden eyes.

"You bitch!"

**oOo**

Vilkas sat at the corner table of the Silver-Blood Inn, drinking from his third tankard of mead. He knew he should have stopped after the first and been done with it, but Markarth held too many memories for him that he couldn't get out of his head. This was the city where he did his first job with Lassarina and managed to spend a pleasant evening with her before they had to flee from her adoptive father and brother. She had been terrified that the man had wanted revenge for her accidentally murdering his eldest son during a rape attempt, and she had been right. They had been followed and Vilkas had fought the hired muscle off, turning into a werewolf to do it quickly, while Lassarina had run to safety; but he hadn't realized that her adoptive father had gone after her.

He had heard her scream before he reached her and found Lassarina with a dagger buried in her gut and her adoptive father's hands around the handle. Vilkas saw red at that moment and ripped the Imperial man apart before going to the woman he loved and realizing she would bleed out if he didn't do what was necessary. To save her life, he had given her the beast blood and their bond formed that night. Despite her being in a relationship with Farkas at the time, the bond had helped her realize she had romantic feelings for Vilkas, and they had come together a few weeks later.

It had been after they had cured the senior Kodlak of the beast blood. Lassarina and Farkas had ended their relationship, Vilkas had drunk a bit too much, as did she, they snuck out through the Underforge and ran across the plains of Whiterun in their werewolf forms for the first and last time. When they had returned to the Underforge near dawn, they had been lying on the ground, recovering from the pain of reverting back to human form, and Vilkas had made the first move, making love to her right then and there. He was sure that was the night they had conceived their first child.

_We made Kodlak that night,_ he thought, losing himself to the memory of the first time he had lain with her. _But losing our son can't compare to the pain of losing her. _

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Vilkas chugged down the rest of his mead and slammed the tankard down on the table, coughing madly when a bit slithered down his windpipe unintentionally.

"Easy there," Daine said as she patted his back. "Maybe you shouldn't chug down your mead like that."

Vilkas shrugged the Imperial woman's hand away and hunched over the table, calming down from his coughing fit and staring into his now-empty tankard. "I'm fine."

Daine tucked a strand of her honey-blonde hair behind an ear and rolled her amber eyes. "Yes, I'm sure you are. Because three meads in less than an hour is a clear sign that you're fine."

"Are you going to nag at me now?"

"Nag at you? Please, I'm not your mother or your wi–er, caretaker."

Vilkas tensed at her near-slip and contemplated another mead.

"Look, Vilkas, normally I wouldn't give a shit how much you drink. If it was me, I'd more than likely be two meads ahead of you. But we need to keep focused in case he shows up."

"We've been staying here for almost a week now and have been sitting at this table every single night. We've been at this a month and have no results. You told me we'd find him, Daine."

"And we will; you just have to be patient. Mallus is paranoid and jumpy, so he never stays in one place for too long."

"What makes you thinks he'd even come here? Markarth is still being held by the Stormcloaks too. If he did leave Lassarina to die, the last place Mallus would come to is Stormcloak territory."

Daine didn't reply. Instead she had her gaze fixed firmly to the inn's entrance. Vilkas turned to look at what had her so fixated and his eyes widened when he recognized him. The man he had been hunting for the past month, Mallus Maccius, had just walked in.

"Ye of such little faith," Daine chided him gently.

Vilkas growled and stood, only to be yanked back down into his chair by Daine.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm going to kill the bastard," he told her.

"In the middle of this inn? Not to mention he probably knows your face." She tugged on the hood of his cloak so it shadowed his face. "There, keep that on. I'll go to Mallus and see if I can get him out of here so we can take him somewhere a little more private."

"Doesn't he know your face too?"

Daine nodded. "Yes, he does, but he also knows that I work closely with Maven Black-Briar. I'll just lie and make him think she sent me to help him out."

"Will he believe you?"

"I'd like to think he will. When you kill people for a living, you learn to be a good liar and very convincing."

Without another word, Daine got up and walked over to where Mallus was sitting at the bar. The man was clearly surprised to see the Dark Brotherhood assassin, but he visibly relaxed when she whispered something in his ear. For about ten minutes, Vilkas watched them talk to one another, at one point arguing, but finally Mallus nodded to something Daine said and headed toward the inn doors. The blonde assassin followed him and paused at the door to look at Vilkas, jerking her head slightly. That was his cue to follow, so he waited thirty seconds before getting up and following them out of the inn.

Outside, Vilkas stayed a fair distance away from them as he trailed them. Daine and Mallus were just passing an abandoned house when she covered his mouth with her hand and shoved him against the wall beside the door. The Imperial man struggled to get away from her, but Vilkas closed the distance quickly and replaced her in restraining Mallus so she could pick the lock. Once the door was open, Vilkas shoved Mallus inside and the man fell to the floor.

"I knew this had to be a trap!" Mallus shouted, rising to his feet and glaring at Daine. "Maven refused to help me when I first came to her. Cold-hearted bitch never changes her mind! Did she send you to finish me off? Or did the others send you?"

Daine drew her daggers out of their sheathes and advanced on Mallus. "No one sent me, I came voluntarily."

"Why?"

"I think I'll be the one asking the questions, Mallus. Actually, my friend here will. See, he's extremely angry with you."

Mallus turned to Vilkas. "And who the fuck is this?"

Vilkas realized that he still had his hood on and quickly took it off, glaring at Mallus with hate-filled eyes.

The Imperial recognized him at once and panicked. "Shit, please, don't kill me!"

"Did my wife ask the same of you when you left her to die inside your meadery?" Vilkas asked, his voice quiet but icy.

"I didn't kill your wife! It was an accident!"

"So the meadery just _happened _to catch fire at the exact time Lassarina was going over to deal with you for stealing from Maven?"

"That's right! It was all just a terrible–"

Vilkas cut him off by grabbing him by the throat and throwing him against the wall. "Don't you dare fucking stand there and lie to me!" he snarled as Mallus crumpled to the floor.

"I'd start talking, Maccius," Daine advised. "I've been giving Vilkas tips on how to torture information out of people."

Mallus sat up and stared up at Vilkas with tears forming in his eyes. "I didn't want any of that to happen."

"Then why did you allow it?" Vilkas roared. "Why did you start the fire? Why did you leave her to die?"

He advanced on the terrified Imperial and knelt in front of him, grabbing him by the collar and punching his jaw. "Answer me!"

"I didn't have any choice!" Mallus sobbed. "It was either me or her!"

"You're garbage! You trapped Lassarina in there! You let her burn to death! You robbed my children of their mother!" Vilkas punched again. "Do you have any idea what it's like to look at your children and have to tell them that they'll never see their mother again?"

"I'm sorry!"

"Sorry isn't going to bring my wife back to life!"

Blood flowed from Mallus's now broken nose and tears streaked his face. "I didn't have a choice. It was either me or her . . ."

Vilkas released his collar and grabbed the man by the throat once more. "She was never going to kill you, you fucking idiot! She was just going to get Maven's money and leave! You killed my wife over a bag of septims!"

Vilkas's hands were tightening around his neck and Mallus struggled weakly to get free. "Please, don't kill me! You don't understand! They didn't give me any choice!"

Daine stood behind him and glared down at Mallus. "_They _didn't give you a choice? Who are _they_?"

"They ordered me to do it," Mallus told them, his voice strangled. "They said if I didn't, they would kill me."

"Who are they?" Vilkas asked, tightening his hands even more.

"T-the, gah! The Th-thalmor!"

Vilkas's whole body went stiff and all he saw was red. The room was suddenly void of all sound except for the drowning roar in his head. He forgot how to breathe. His mind couldn't process this new information. The Thalmor? The Thalmor were the ones who ordered Lassarina's death?

"Vilkas!" Daine screamed in his ear.

Vilkas's vision cleared and he stared blankly at Daine. "What?"

"Vilkas, you killed him!"

He turned to look at Mallus and saw the light had left the Imperial man's eyes. His hands were still clenched tightly around his neck, and Vilkas realized that he had crushed his windpipe, killing him almost instantly. He released him and Mallus fell to the ground.

"Damn it, Vilkas, we could have gotten more information out of him!" Daine shouted. "Now we'll never know why the Thalmor ordered this!"

"It doesn't make sense," Vilkas murmured, his voice monotone and his eyes void of any emotion. "The Thalmor wanted Lassarina alive."

"Well, I guess they changed their minds. And because of you, we'll never know why! Honestly, Lassarina always boasted about how smart you were in her letters, but you're actually a bigger idiot than our dearly departed friend here."

Vilkas looked at Mallus. "Aye . . . he's dead. He did leave her for dead. I was right."

"Yes, you were. How do you feel now that you killed Lassarina's murderer?"

Vilkas stared at Mallus for several moments, trying to process everything he was feeling at that moment. His realization just made him angry.

"I don't feel any differently," he growled. "I'm still in pain, not having her here. I'm also angry because the pain is still there. I thought that killing Mallus would make it go away."

Daine sighed and knelt beside him. "Yeah, I figured it wouldn't."

"If you knew that killing him wouldn't change anything, why didn't you try and talk me out of it?"

"Because it wouldn't have changed your mind. And I wanted him dead too. Lassarina was my friend, and this bastard deserved it for leaving her to die." She rose to her feet and patted his shoulder. "Come on, big guy. Time for you to go home to your kids. They probably miss their papa. I know I miss Tannis."

Vilkas rose from the ground. "What about Mallus?"

Daine scoffed. "Leave him to rot. The house is abandoned anyway. I'm sure the guards will come around once people start to notice the smell."

He nodded numbly and left the house with her. Mallus was dead, but he now felt lost. Killing him was what had been driving him forward ,and now that he didn't have that, he didn't know what to do. He supposed he could return to Whiterun and raise Faolan and Lyanna all alone, without Lassarina, but the very idea just brought on more heartache. She should be there to watch the twins grow up. Mallus and the Thalmor prevented that from ever happening.

That's when he thought of something else he could do, feeling his body fueled by rage from thinking of the Thalmor.

_Ulfric needs to know, _he thought silently to himself. _It's past time that the Thalmor were ejected from Skyrim._

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><p><em>Alright, so opinions people? Who do you all think the mystery prisoner is?<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	3. Chapter 3

_Enjoying the quick updates? I'll bet you are. Those of that have made guesses are going to find out whether you were right or wrong with this chapter!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Killing in the name of by Rage Against the Machine, Toxicity by System of the Down_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Three<strong>**

****(15********th******** of the First Seed, 4E 205)****

"Papa, you need to come quick!"

Einarr looked up from his desk at the sound of his daughter's breathless voice and immediately stiffened. He had been going over Jorrvaskr's books and checking the expenses and how much gold had been coming in, a task that usually fell to Vilkas, but the damned fool was drunk most of the time and could barely add two and two together. The task was extremely tedious for him, so Einarr was glad to welcome any distraction.

"What's wrong, Kiraya?" he asked her, getting up from his chair and walking out of the room, motioning her to lead the way.

"The Battle-Borns are harassing Fralia in the market!" Kiraya hissed angrily. "Rohan's with her. We told them to leave her alone, but they didn't listen."

Growling angrily, Einarr walked a bit faster out of Jorrvaskr to aid Eorland's wife. The poor woman was already grief-stricken from the sudden disappearance of her son, Thorald, over a month ago without having to be constantly harassed by the Battle-Borns. Einarr had felt as badly about Thorald's disappearance as his family did, since he had come to be good friends with Clan Gray-Mane in the years he'd lived in Whiterun. He would gladly stand beside them in any situation after all the kindness Eorland and his family had expressed toward him and his family.

As he reached the market with Kiraya, Einarr saw that the argument had already drawn quite a crowd, merchants and civilians alike gawking at Fralia and the two Battle-Borns, Olfrid and Idolaf. Kiraya's friend and Avyanna's younger brother, Rohan, stood beside the elderly woman and was glaring at the two men.

"Your son chose his side, and he chose poorly," Idolaf spat at Fralia. "And now he's gone. Such is the way of war. The sooner you accept his loss, the better."

"I will never accept his death!" Fralia cried out. "My son still lives. I feel it in my heart. So tell me, Battle-Borns, where is he? Where are you holding my Thorald?"

Einarr frowned and felt his heart go out to poor Fralia. She wanted nothing more to believe that her son was alive, much like he wished that Lassarina was still alive. But it had been over a month now, and while they had hired some men to go out and search for him, no one came back with any information.

"Do you believe this old hag?" Olfrid snorted. "'Holding him?' Why, I've got him in my cellar. He's my prisoner." His voice had been dripping with sarcasm and Einarr was not amused. "Face it, cow! Your stupid son is dead! He died a Stormcloak traitor! And you . . . you best keep your mouth shut before you suffer the same!"

"That's enough," Einarr growled, finally stepping forward and standing beside Fralia.

"Well, look who's here. The mighty Dragonborn come to save his allies, the Gray-Manes. How touching."

"This isn't the first time I've caught wind of you harassing the Gray-Manes in the past month, Battle-Born. Isn't it enough that Thorald is missing? You have to constantly torment poor Fralia about it?"

"Her son isn't missing; he's dead!"

"He's not dead, I tell you!" Fralia shouted, tears forming in her eyes.

"Come on, father," Idolaf said, grabbing Olfrid by the shoulder. "Let's just leave. There's nothing more to be said here. Gods forbid we upset the Dragonborn."

The two men walked away from the market, the crowd parting to let them through, and then all eyes were on Fralia and Einarr. He glared at all the gawking eyes.

"Haven't you anything better to do?" Einarr demanded. "Go about you own damned business!"

Everyone either jumped, winced, or flinched at Einarr's harsh tone and promptly dispersed. Looking down at Fralia, he saw the poor woman looked heartbroken and knew he had to do something about this soon, or something bad would happen. Olfrid's subtle threat bugged him a little too much.

"Kiraya, Rohan, could you walk Fralia back to her house?" he asked the two teenagers.

"Aye," they answered together.

"Come on, Fralia," Kiraya urged the elderly woman, taking her hand in her own. "Don't let those ice-brained Battle-Borns get to you. I'm sure Thorald is all right."

As they led Fralia away, Einarr went to her merchant stand and took the keys off the counter, locking it up for the day. He was about to go and catch up with Kiraya when he noticed Jon Battle-Born leaning against one of the wooden pillars in front of Belethor's, frowning and shifting nervously. Jon was probably the only member of Clan Battle-Born that didn't annoy Einarr, what with his polite and kind attitude, so seeing him that nervous was disconcerting.

"Jon," he called out. "Are you all right?"

Jon sighed and walked over to Einarr. "I'm sorry about my father and brother."

"You don't need to apologize for them. If anything, they're the ones who should apologize for their behavior."

"This feud between our clans . . . it's gone too far."

Einarr could see the worry and fear in Jon's eyes and sighed. "Does your family know where Thorald is?"

Jon looked at him for several moments before his face crumpled and he pulled a sheet paper out of his pocket, placing it into Einarr's hand. "I made a copy of the one I found on Idolaf's desk, but they match word for word."

Einarr unfolded the letter and skimmed it over:

_It has come to my attention that inquiries have been made as to the whereabouts of one Thorald Gray-Mane. It is my duty to inform you that Thalmor agents have taken possession of the prisoner and have escorted him to Northwatch Keep. I don't think I need to elaborate. It is in everyone's best interest if the matter is dropped entirely. I trust there will be no further inquiries as to this matter._

_ - Gen. Tullius_

Einarr glared at Jon, fighting the urge to crush the letter in his hand. "Were you the one who made the inquiries?"

"Nay, believe it or not, my brother did," Jon answered.

"Idolaf? The same man who stood there and helped your father harass Fralia?"

"Our clans were once friends, Einarr. Idolaf and Thorald were practically raised together; he was worried about him. When I found the missive and realized we were withholding this information, I decided enough was enough. I can't let this incident jeopardize my future."

Einarr couldn't resist a smirk. "So you see a future with Olfina then?"

Jon looked at him in shock. "H-how did you know?"

"Jon, you stand in the same spot nearly every single day just to watch her. On a good day, you two have the opportunity to talk. Damn it, man, if you love her, just tell her and stop being a damned fool." Shoving the copy of the missive in his pocket, he started walking away. "Life's too short to wait."

Einarr rushed toward the Gray-Mane household and let himself inside, finding Kiraya and Rohan sitting at the bench around the fire pit while Fralia stood over a pot, stirring something. The door of a nearby room swung open and Avulstein stepped out, axe in hand and an alarmed look on his face, which quickly eased when he saw Einarr.

"You can't be so paranoid, Avulstein," he told the man.

"How can I not be?" he scoffed. "My brother is missing and the people responsible live a moment away."

"The Battle-Borns aren't all bad," Einarr said cautiously, pulling the missive copy out of his pocket. "Jon Battle-Born gave this to me, a copy of the letter his brother Idolaf received."

Avulstein arched a brow and read it quickly, crushing it in his hand once he was done. "Gods damn it!"

"Avulstein, what is it?" Fralia asked.

"Thorald _is _alive. He's being kept in a Thalmor prison!"

Fralia's hands covered her mouth in shock. "Oh, my poor boy!"

"Don't worry, mother, I'll find him and bring him back."

"Avulstein, I don't think that's a good idea," Einarr told him quietly.

"And why not?"

"Fralia is already mad with worry over your brother; does she really need the added stress of wondering if her other son is safe?"

"So I'm to just let my brother rot in a Thalmor prison?"

"Nay, I never said that. But I don't think you yourself should go. I'll go instead. I have a score to settle with the Thalmor."

Einarr was furious with the Thalmor after Vilkas returned a month ago with the news that they had forced Mallus Maccius to start the fire in the meadery and trap her inside. It had been bad enough when he thought she had just died, but knowing she had been murdered sent Einarr into a blood rage. That night the plains outside of Whiterun were littered with animal carcasses, shredded into bloody pulps by some unknown beast.

Avulstein shot him a look of disbelief. "You're going to break into a Thalmor prison and break my brother out without knowing how many soldiers are inside? That's suicide, even for the Dragonborn."

"I never said I was going alone," Einarr replied. "I'll bring someone else with me. Someone who hates the Thalmor more than I do."

**oOo**

"Vilkas!" Einarr shouted, pounding his fist against the front door. "Open the door!"

He had been knocking on the hard wood for the past few minutes, starting to regret that he hadn't kept a copy of Breezehome's key for himself. He was contemplating kicking in the door when he heard the familiar click of the door unlocking. Grabbing onto the handle, he yanked the door open and found Faolan on his hands and knees with Lyanna standing on his back, the house key in her hand.

"Uncle Einarr!" Lyanna cried out happily.

Einarr smiled at his niece and scooped her up. "Hey there, you little ankle biter. Does your papa know you can open the front door now?"

"Papa sleeping," Faolan informed him, standing up.

Einarr had to resist the urge to growl. It was past midday, and not only was he more than likely sleeping off his hangover, he was letting his two-year-old children wander around the house without supervision. Setting Lyanna down next to her brother, Einarr closed the door and looked around the first floor of the house. It was a mess, the twins' toys and Vilkas's empty bottles scattered all over the place.

"Have you two eaten?" Einarr asked the twins.

"Aye," they answered together.

"Apples!" Lyanna informed him cheerfully.

"Still hungry," Faolan pouted.

Sighing, Einarr walked over to the cupboard and spotted a jar full of venison jerky. He pulled out a few strips and handed them to the twins, deciding it would have to do until he could get Tilma or Avyanna to see to them.

_Tilma would be better, though, _he thought to himself. _Farkas mentioned that Kellen was sick. Wouldn't want the twins to catch it._

"I'm just going to wake your papa, okay?" he told them gently, ruffling their hair.

The twins nodded, their mouths full of jerky, and Einarr headed upstairs to the master bedroom. He wasn't surprised to find it locked, but this time he wasn't going to be polite and knock. Taking a deep breath, Einarr kicked open the door, startling Vilkas.

"What the fuck?" he groaned, sitting up in the large bed, his hand still clutching the pillow on the left side.

_Lassarina's pillow, _he thought sadly.

"Get your drunken ass out of bed," Einarr ordered him, grabbing a shirt off the floor and throwing it at his face.

Vilkas pressed the heel of his palm into his eyes. "What time is it?"

"It's past noon. Did you know that the twins could open the front door now?"

"They can?" he asked, squinting at him with bleary eyes.

"Aye. Now tell me, what would have happened if they decided to walk out the front door? The waterways are all over the city; what if they had fallen in?"

"They know they aren't allowed outside alone."

"Ah, but they're allowed to wander around a house full of weapons without any supervision? If you're going to be an irresponsible father, you should at least let Fang back into the house since the damned wolf can do a better job watching the twins right now."

"I don't need parental advice from a man who left his daughter with her grandfather for seven years while he wandered across Tamriel."

"Looking for my sister! Your wife!"

"My dead wife. Your dead sister. Doesn't matter anymore. She's gone because of the Thalmor and the only one who can do anything about it is sitting on his ass in Windhelm."

"Really? Because we can do something about it now. Even if it isn't the large-scale plan you wanted."

Vilkas looked at him curiously. "What do you mean?"

"Eorland's son Thorald is being held prisoner in some place called Northwatch Keep. It's a Thalmor prison. I thought you'd might enjoy going with me and killing every Dominion soldier inside."

Einarr knew that he had him the moment he saw Vilkas's eyes light up with a dangerous fire.

"When do we leave?"

**oOo**

When they arrived at the Thalmor prison four days later, Vilkas's body was containing a violent storm that would be unleashed on the first soldier he saw. He had left the twins under the care of Tilma, who offered to stay at Breezehome and tidy up, something Vilkas greatly appreciated since he couldn't be bothered with cleaning. The trip there had been extremely quiet, Einarr refusing to speak with him the majority of the time due to his behavior. But Vilkas was angry at his brother-in-law too, since he had gone through his pack the first night they camped and destroyed every bottle of mead he had brought with him.

"You need to stop drowning yourself in alcohol!" Einarr had shouted on him. "Do you drink this much in front of the twins?"

"I drink in the privacy of my own room, thank you very much!" Vilkas had retorted.

"You need to get your shit together, you enormous ass. I only pray that this doesn't rub off on Faolan or Lyanna. I don't want my niece and nephew to turn out like their father."

Any other insults that Einarr could have come up with were lost the moment Vilkas's fist connected with his face. They tired themselves out with their fight, but it did manage to help get a lot of anger and aggression toward each other out of their systems. Still, he could have done without the bruised ribs and the black eye.

"All right, it looks like this place is heavily guarded," Vilkas murmured, scanning the battlements. "I can see at least three soldiers patrolling the top of the wall. But there can be more on the ground, not to mention gods know how many inside."

Einarr scanned the keep with his pale-blue eyes. Vilkas tried not to frown at how his eyes were identical to Lassarina's, but it was too damned hard.

"_Laas_," Einarr whispered.

Vilkas felt a shiver go down his spine at the sound of the Shout and waited for Einarr to tell him what he saw.

"Three more on the ground," he reported. "I also see at least fifteen people inside. I can't tell which ones are prisoners, though."

"We'll find out soon enough," Vilkas shrugged, grabbing the dragonbone bow off his back.

It was Lassarina's bow. Einarr had mounted it on the wall in Jorrvaskr, beside Wuuthrad and his broken dragonbone greatsword that had dealt the final blow to Alduin, but Vilkas had taken it back a month ago when he decided that he'd kill any Thalmor he ever came across with it. Nocking an arrow, Vilkas advanced forward quickly, taking cover behind a large boulder before peeking out and firing at one of the soldiers on the wall. The second he went down, another soldier shouted an alarm and chaos erupted.

He and Einarr fought blindly through the soldiers, striking them down with an anger and ferocity that would likely frighten anyone who saw. But they were both too enraged with these people to show them any mercy. They hacked and slashed away at the Thalmor, their blades cutting through their pristine elven armor as easily as butter. By the time they were done, both of them were covered in the blood that sprayed from their victims, even more blood staining the snow at their feet. Vilkas was breathing heavily and didn't bother to wipe his face clean like Einarr did. It was fitting warpaint–the blood of his enemies.

They showed even less mercy to the Thalmor inside the keep. Vilkas was in the middle of a berserk blood rage and nothing was snapping him out of it. He was getting wounded, but he barely felt it. His body was immune to the pain ,and all he cared about was seeing the suffering and panic in the Thalmor's eyes. By the time he and Einarr reached the torture room and took out the interrogator, Vilkas was unrecognizable from all the blood that covered him.

"Vilkas," Einarr's voice broke through, sounding wary. "Vilkas, are you all right?"

Vilkas blinked and took a deep breath, wiping his blade clean on the interrogator's robes. "Aye . . . I'm fine."

"Are you hurt anywhere? I can't tell with all the blood."

He could feel a few stinging wounds around his arms but could tell they weren't serious. "I have a few cuts and scrapes, but I'll be fine."

"Who's there?" called out a weak voice.

Vilkas turned his attention to where the voice was coming from and walked over to where a man was shackled to the wall. His shirt had been stripped off so the bruises, lacerations and burns that covered his skin were clearly visible. Blood covered the man's face and bruises covered his cheeks and jaw.

"Thorald," Einarr breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank Talos you're still alive."

"Einarr," Thorald chuckled. "My mother sent you to find me, didn't she?"

"Nay, I offered to come. You're family has been good to me over the years; I wouldn't have just forgotten about you, friend."

Vilkas helped Einarr get Thorald free of the shackles and he crumbled to the ground, hissing in pain from his wounds.

"I never thought I'd see another friendly face again," Thorald muttered, his voice tight.

"We need to get to safety as soon as possible," Einarr told him. "Let's move."

"Nay, wait!"

Vilkas arched a brow at the man. "We can't wait long."

"There are other prisoners," the injured man explained. "Through that door, a whole cell block full of innocent people. They have–"

A scream of pain interrupted them. That sounded like a woman.

Nostrils flaring with alarm, Vilkas rushed to the indicated door with Einarr, kicking it in and finding a Thalmor woman standing in front of an open cell, laughing while screams sounded from inside it. She turned when the door opened and Vilkas charged at her, swinging his sword and slicing through her gut. She collapsed immediately, crying out in pain as she died. Einarr joined Vilkas and stepped into the cell, stabbing another soldier who had been viciously beating a blonde Nord woman. Once the soldiers were dead, he watched Einarr kneel beside the woman.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Thank the gods," the woman breathed, her gray eyes sparkling with relief. "Did the Nine send you to save us?"

"Nay, but they must have helped in making sure I got here in time."

Vilkas studied the woman and saw she was as badly beaten as Thorald had been, her pretty face covered in old and new bruises and her lower lip covered in her own blood. Judging from how filthy her skin was it was clear she had been imprisoned for a long time.

"Can you stand?" Einarr asked her.

"Aye," she replied with a nod, getting up on shaking legs. "Who are you, anyway?"

"I'm Einarr and this is Vilkas. We're from Whiterun, Companions."

"Einarr of the Companions?" She gave a gasp. "Wait, you're the Dragonborn!"

Vilkas rolled his eyes when Einarr chuckled. "Aye, that I am."

"Einarr?" rasped an older voice.

Vilkas turned around and saw an old man in his sixties staring at them, his brown eyes wide in shock. The old man was filthy, his skin covered with a layer of grime, making it impossible to judge the tone underneath, and long, dark-gray hair that was matted and ratty, tangling into his matching beard. Although they hadn't seen many of the prisoners, it appeared as if this old man hadn't been tortured at all. But looking closer, Vilkas could see evidence of old torture, faded scars that covered the man's arms. There were probably even more underneath his shirt. But as Vilkas stared at the man, he couldn't shake off the strange feeling that he looked hauntingly familiar.

"You there, the Nord bathed in blood," hissed a reptilian voice. Vilkas turned to the Argonian trying to squeeze his head through the bars. "Could you do us all a favor and let us out of here? There are levers at the end of the hall that open the locks."

Vilkas looked to where he was pointing and jogged over, pulling down each individual lever. The cell doors swung open and the prisoners within walked out, all of their faces shining with relief. The old man that had been staring at Einarr got out of his cell and made his way to the Harbinger. Vilkas watched in shock as, without warning, the old man embraced Einarr, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"What in Oblivion?" Einarr growled, pushing the old man off. "Listen, I know you're thankful we've freed you, but that doesn't give you the right to–"

"Twenty-seven years," the old man interrupted, his voice thick with emotion. "I thought I'd never see you again, Einarr. I thought I'd die never knowing what happened to you and Freyja."

Einarr visibly stiffened. "How do you know my mother's name? And why do you look familiar?"

"Einarr, Freyja was my wife. You are my son."

Vilkas's eyes widened and he practically slapped his forehead, finally realizing why the old man looked familiar. Underneath the long beard, all that hair and grime, the older man looked almost exactly like Einarr, albeit a lot thinner and frailer. He could see that Einarr was clearly in shock.

"You're my father?" he asked. "But, how? Mother said you died."

"She just assumed. Once the Thalmor take you prisoner, it is unlikely you are ever seen again."

"Thorolf, can your reunion wait until later?" the Nord woman interrupted. "We need to get her out of that cell!"

Thorolf turned to the woman and nodded. "Of course, forgive me, Assa."

Vilkas had to move aside as Thorolf and Assa walked right past him and over to a secured door at the end of the hall, where the Argonian was kneeling in front of the many locks.

"Can you pick it, Sid?" Assa asked him.

"You're an Argonian and your name is Sid?" Vilkas asked, finding it very amusing.

The Argonian's red eyes glared back at him. "Sid is just a nickname. My actual name is Sinks-in-Dark-Waters." Turning to Assa, he grumbled. "These locks will take hours to pick. You're better off just chopping down the door."

"Is there someone in there?" Einarr demanded.

"Aye," Thorolf answered. "We need to get her out of there. Now."

"Stand back." He looked back at Vilkas. "Help me chop down the door."

Vilkas nodded and drew his greatsword once more. Standing beside Einarr, they took turns swinging at the thick wood of the door. The prisoners stood back several feet to watch, Thorald Gray-Mane having joined them after retrieving weapons for each of them from the weapons rack back inside the torture chamber. It took nearly half an hour, but they finally managed to break through the door, recoiling at the stench of disease and infection that poured out.

"Gods, it smells like death," Einarr gagged, moving a safe distance away from the destroyed door.

Vilkas knew Einarr's heightened sense of smell was making the stench a lot worse, so with a nod he stepped into the cell. The sight that he witnessed made him drop his sword and fall to his knees. It was a woman, her arms tightly bound behind her back, lying face down on the floor. He could tell that she had been through Oblivion and back just looking at her body, and if it weren't for the subtle movements of her torso rising and falling, he would have thought she was dead. The rough-spun linen clothes she wore were nothing more than rags covering very little of her broken body. One leg bent at an awkward angle, an old burn scar on the calf, and evidence of branding traveled up from both ankles to her thighs. One of her shoulders was clearly dislocated, and he could see a badly infected scar on her forearm. His brow furrowed, and for a moment he thought he had seen that scar somewhere before.

All of her fingers were broken and he could see a tan line on her ring finger. Her hair was matted and singed, but Vilkas could see even in the dark that once cleaned it would be a shade of dark auburn.

_Dark auburn . . ._

Gasping aloud, Vilkas gently rolled the woman onto her side, letting out a sob once he saw her face. Tears formed in his eyes right away, cutting through the blood, and he took her in his arms, holding her tight and refusing to let her go.

"Vilkas?" Einarr called out. "Vilkas what is it?"

"Einarr," Vilkas could hear how broken his voice sounded. "It's Lassarina."

* * *

><p><em>LOLOLOLOL I can't believe you guys actually thought I was going to kill Lassarina! It makes no sense! She's too valuable to the Thalmor to just sanction her death! How she came to be captured will all be explained next chapter.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	4. Chapter 4

_Lassarina's alive! I literally laughed out loud every time a review came in saying, "I KNEW IT!" Seriously people, like I was going to kill Lassarina. That's just cruel. I would never do that to you guys. I make you suffer and I tease you, but I'd never break your hearts._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Home by Michael Buble, Make you Feel my Love by Adele, Seasons of Love from Rent_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Four<strong>**

Her body screamed in pain when it was moved and roused Lassarina out of her comatose state. She tried to cry out in pain, but her voice had been reduced to a useless rasp over the last few months. The Thalmor always spiked her drinking water with a drug that numbed her whole mouth for hours, making it nearly impossible to talk, and also slipped in a poison that drained her magicka reserves so she couldn't heal herself. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes when she felt someone cut through the course rope around her bleeding wrists and lift her off the ground.

_Elenwen's early, _she thought bitterly. _It hasn't even been a week since she last came._

But the person moving her didn't possess the usual aggression that all of the soldiers had shown toward her. The person was actually shaking as he cradled her closer to his chest, her cheek pressed against the cool but sticky metal of his armor. It felt amazing against her burning skin. She had started running a fever a few days ago, shortly after she realized the scar on her arm that Elenwen had reopened was infected.

"Is she all right?" demanded a familiar man's voice. It sounded so far away.

"She's burning up," said the voice of the one holding her.

_I know that voice . . ._

"Are any of you a healer?"

"Nay," replied a woman. "They tend to kill anyone with magic. Too risky to keep them prisoner."

"Vilkas, I have a cure disease potion," came in the first man.

_Vilkas?_

Lassarina heard the pop of a cork and seconds later a mouth slanted over hers, forcing her to drink a bitter tasting liquid. She wanted to spit the vile fluid out, but barely had enough strength to swallow. The lips still pressed against hers moved away and she let out a weak whimper.

"Lassarina?"

She forced her eyes open, and the first thing she saw were the warm, tear-filled gray-blue eyes that she had fallen in love with and dreamt about every night since she had gotten captured. A tear of her own ran down her cheek and she managed a small smile.

"Lassarina, thank the gods," Vilkas murmured, pulling her in for a hug. "Don't worry, you're safe."

Relief and joy bloomed in her chest and Lassarina couldn't stop more tears from falling. She had honestly thought she would never see her husband again and would die in the hands of the Thalmor. She had come to the point where she would have gladly welcomed death if it meant that the torture she was put through would end.

She felt a hand come to rest on her cheek, and Vilkas pulled away. Her gaze shifted from her husband's to a reflection of her own. Pale-blue eyes, identical to hers, stared at her, relieved and shining with unshed tears. She recognized her older brother immediately and lifted her shaking hand to touch his face.

"Lassarina," he said her name and brought up his own hand to cover hers, kissing the palm. "You're alive."

"We need to get her out of here," Vilkas said, wiping his eyes with a finger. "We need to get everyone here to safety."

"Aye, you carry her." Einarr turned to the prisoners. "You'll all need to help each other."

Vilkas unintentionally jostled Lassarina as he stood with her still cradled in his arms and a strangled groan hissed out through her clenched teeth. She felt his arms tense around her and felt his lips against her filthy hair.

"I know, love, it hurts," he murmured soothingly. "We're going to get you help."

Every step he took sent a wave of pain through her body, but she fought to keep herself from groaning or whimpering in pain, though her efforts must have been pitiful since Vilkas kept whispering reassurances to her. By the time the group stepped outside and Lassarina got her first gulp of fresh air in months, she was already starting to slip back into unconsciousness.

**oOo**

When she came to again, Lassarina thought that it had all been a cruel dream. Vilkas and Einarr hadn't really come to rescue her. She was still inside the dark cell that reeked of filth that the Thalmor had thrown her in. But when she opened her eyes and saw the sight of the early morning blue sky above her, she realized she was actually free. She tried to push aside the fur blanket of the bedroll she was lying on and sit up, but someone had placed their hand on her good shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

"You shouldn't get up," ordered a voice she had listened to through the door of her cell for the past few months.

"Thorolf?" her voice was a hoarse whisper, but the fact that she could form words meant the daily drug the Thalmor gave her was wearing off. "Thorolf Windblade?"

"Aye, that's right. Don't try and move too much. You'll aggravate your shoulder and all those broken bones."

She didn't need to be told twice. Just moving her head a bit made her whole body ache and tense up. Swallowing her moan of discomfort she lay her head back on the makeshift pillow and only let her eyes move and roam.

"Vilkas?" she asked, swallowing around the dryness in her mouth. "Vilkas? Where–"

"He's nearby," Thorolf reassured her, holding a waterskin to her lips. "Here, drink this."

Lassarina gladly drank from the skin, swallowing as much of the cool water as she possibly could to slake her thirst. Once she had her fill, she was desperate for air, not having stopped to breathe as she drank.

"I'm surprised you can speak," Thorolf chuckled, setting down the skin and placing a cool, damp piece of fabric on her feverish forehead. "You never spoke a word back in the prison."

"Drugged me," she mumbled, having trouble forming complete sentences. "Couldn't speak."

"She's awake?" asked a female voice.

"Aye, she is," Thorolf replied to the woman out of view.

Lassarina remembered there had also been a woman at the prison with them–Assa, if she remembered correctly. The woman's bruised face came into view then, pale-blonde hair falling to her shoulders and gray eyes staring at her in concern. She disappeared again for a moment, and when she returned, she was holding a potion vial in one hand.

"She should drink another cure disease potion," Assa suggested. "Maybe a stamina potion too."

"Good idea," Thorolf agreed.

Assa knelt beside Lassarina and gently lifted her head as she pressed the rim of the vial to her lips. She drank down the bitter potion until it was all gone and was immediately replaced with a green stamina potion. That one was a little easier to drink, and she felt a bit stronger once the contents were in her body.

"We need to pop that shoulder back into place before her muscles are further damaged," Thorolf said. He brought a wad of cloth to Lassarina's mouth. "Bite down on this."

Lassarina obeyed blindly and groaned when they helped her into a seated position. Thorolf commanded the Nord woman to hold Lassarina still while he took her arm in one hand and held onto her shoulder with the other. She bit down on the gag as hard as she possibly could and tensed, preparing herself for the pain. Thorolf yanked her shoulder sharply and she screamed through the cloth as her shoulder popped back into place.

"Here, a health potion," Assa offered her a vial full of red liquid.

"Nay," Lassarina groaned, pulling the wad of cloth out of her mouth. "Magicka potion."

Assa nodded and brought her the blue elixir, which Lassarina snatched from her and gulped down. Once it was gone, she waited a few moments and pressed her hand to the infected wound on her arm. Golden light surrounded it, burning away all the pus and covering the nasty cuts with a hard, protective scab. Once that was done, she healed her wrists and then her shoulder, numbing the aching pain pulsing through her muscles. She could feel she had a few broken ribs, so she healed those as well, draining her magicka.

"I need another potion," she gasped. "I need to heal my leg."

"You should rest, dear," Thorolf told her. "Even your mother wasn't foolish enough to use too much magic at once."

"But–"

"We aren't going anywhere. We all need to rest before we start moving somewhere safer."

Lassarina huffed but knew he was right. Looking around, she tried to figure out where in Oblivion they were.

"The Dragonborn found this ravine," Assa explained. "We're a few hours out of Dragon Bridge."

"Where is Einarr?" Lassarina asked. "And my husband. Where's Vilkas?"

"There's a pool of water nearby. Vilkas's washing all that Thalmor blood off himself; he was getting it all over you. And Einarr rode to Dragon Bridge to buy some supplies: food, clothes, the necessities."

For the first time, Lassarina noticed that a lot of the blood smudging her grimy, gray skin wasn't her own. Vilkas's face _had_ been coated with blood when she opened her eyes the night before and saw him looking down at her. Now she was envious that he was getting clean when the last time she got a bath was . . . she couldn't even remember.

"Please, can I just have the other magicka potion?" Lassarina sighed. "I need to fix my leg."

Assa and Thorolf exchanged a look, but finally he nodded and they handed her a second blue potion. She gulped it down quickly and got to work on healing her broken leg right away. Elenwen had been the one to snap it herself, a pleased look on her cruel face as Lassarina screamed from the pain. She managed to piece the shattered bone back together after several minutes and was exhausted from straining herself. She had also been so focused on healing that she hadn't noticed Assa and Thorolf had moved away and Vilkas was now kneeling beside her, wearing clean leather trousers and a linen shirt, his face now clean of blood.

"Vilkas," she breathed, tears welling in her eyes all over again as she reached for him.

He gave her a shaky smile and pulled her onto his lap. "Lassarina, love."

"I was afraid it wasn't real. I thought it had just been a dream."

"Nay, it was real."

She pulled away and his hand cupped the side of her face, brushing away her tears with his thumb. When he lowered his head to hers, she gladly accepted the hungry kiss, ignoring the mild discomfort of the small cut on her lip. She locked her hands behind his neck, savoring the solidity of his warm body pressed against hers. Lassarina didn't think she'd ever feel it again.

"How did you know where I was?" she asked him breathlessly.

She saw his eyes darken. "We . . . we didn't know. Lassarina, love, we thought you had died in that fire. We came to rescue Eorland's son. It was pure luck and a damned miracle we even found you. But I'm glad we did."

Vilkas kissed her again, but she pulled away with a whimper. "You thought I died?"

"Aye. The entire meadery was collapsing in on itself by the time we heard what had happened. I ran over from the house as quickly as I could and arrived just as the guards were setting a charred body on the ground. There were Guild leathers on her and your ring was around her finger. I" –he broke off to take a deep breath. Reliving the whole experience was obviously upsetting him— "I assumed it was you. The body was so badly burned you couldn't even make out who it was."

"It was a Thalmor trap," she told him, her voice bitter. "Mallus trapped me in his room and a beam fell on me before I could get out. I thought I was going to die, but then the door opened and these Thalmor soldiers came in with a dead body. They took my wedding ring and knocked me out. When I came to, I was bound, blinded, and gagged and on a cart heading to that prison."

Vilkas frowned and hugged her to his chest. "I'm just so thankful you're alive . . . I haven't been myself without you. I missed you so much."

"Aye, I know, I missed you too, love."

They held each other for several more minutes before Lassarina finally started to feel self-conscious over how repulsively filthy she was. She pulled away from Vilkas and looked up at him.

"Love, where's that pool?" she asked him. "I feel disgusting."

With a nod, he moved his arms under her shoulders and legs and lifted her into the air. She wanted to protest but doubted she'd be able to walk three steps without collapsing. The fur blanket was still covering her body, which she was thankful for since the linen clothing she had been forced to wear in the prison was just rags covering very little. The pool was isolated from their makeshift camp, and Vilkas set her down on the ground, stripping off his shirt and laying it on a rock. He helped her strip off the gross rags and got into the water with her, trousers still on.

"Gods, what did those bastards put you through?" he choked out, running his hand along her back.

Lassarina felt a lump form in her throat. "Could we not talk about it?"

She didn't have to look at him to know he was frowning. His hands were still delicately tracing the whip marks criss-crossed across her back and came to a stop at the mark on her left shoulder. She flinched when she felt his fingertips shaking.

"They _branded _you?" he growled angrily.

"They brand everyone they take prisoner," she replied numbly, pulling away from him and sinking deeper into the water until it went past her shoulders.

Taking a deep breath and holding it, she dunked her head under the water and raked her fingers through her hair, scrubbing madly and wishing for some soap. When Lassarina came up for air, Vilkas's arms wrapped around her waist and he slipped something into her hand. Soap. Smiling, she glanced over her shoulder at her husband and caught the pained look in his eyes.

"These wounds will heal, Vilkas," she told him.

"Aye," he told her with a forced smile.

Then they both fell silent and worked together to get her clean.

**oOo**

It was nearly sunset when Einarr finally returned from Dragon Bridge, a pack filled with supplies strapped to Ally's saddle. The camp looked exactly the way he left it, except for the people in it. They had clearly taken the time to wash up while he had been gone and looked like completely different people now that all the grime was washed off of them. His eyes immediately searched for his sister and he found her fast asleep in Vilkas's bedroll, using her husband's lap for a pillow. He breathed out a sigh of relief, glad to see his sister was still with them and that it hadn't just been an illusion.

"Dragonborn, welcome back!" called out the Nord woman, Assa.

Einarr turned to look at her and found her standing behind his father, sheers in her hand. It still felt strange, knowing his father was still alive and only a few feet away from him; it actually didn't even feel real. When he first pushed away the old man embracing him back in the prison, he couldn't see a trace of his father in him. The man was old and wrinkled, his hair gray instead of honey brown like his own.

But he looked at the man sitting in front of Assa and felt the flood of childhood memories begin to overwhelm him. His beard had been shaved off and the long gray locks were cut into the short haircut Einarr remembered his father having when he was a child. Thorolf didn't look as old anymore now that the beard was gone, sporting less wrinkles than he initially assumed. He had discarded the linen shirt he had been wearing so Assa could have an easier time cutting his hair, and even though he was far too skinny and covered with more scars than Einarr remembered, his body was still tight with muscle. His eyes were the same brown, although now they were dark and haunted.

"Einarr," Thorolf greeted him with a tired smile.

He immediately felt uncomfortable, wondering what one said to the father who he assumed to be dead for the past twenty-seven years. "You . . . you look more like I remember."

His father chuckled and rubbed his now-smooth cheeks. "Aye, I probably startled you. Some strange-looking old man claiming to be your father."

"You look a lot more handsome now that your disgusting beard is gone," Assa teased. She looked up at Einarr. "You both actually look exactly alike. Except for the eyes."

Einarr swallowed and brought over the pack. "I bought everyone a change of clothes."

Assa set down the sheers and took the pack from him. "Thank you, Dragonborn."

"Please, call me Einarr. I hate titles."

"Oh, sorry."

"Nay, it's fine. You didn't know."

"Finally, I can get out of these damned rags," Thorald Gray-Mane grumbled, walking over with the Argonian Sinks-in-Dark-Waters, commonly referred to by the other prisoners as Sid.

"Oh yes, gods forbid that the man from the prestigious Clan Gray-Mane has to walk around in rags," Sid hissed sarcastically.

"Sid, please be nice," Assa begged the Argonian as she watched the two rummage through the packs for clothing.

Sid stared at her for a moment before shrugging. "Fine, but you can forget about me being the Stormcloaks courier after this.

Both Sid and Thorald took what they needed and walked away. Assa, shaking her head, pulled the two dresses out of the pack and carried one over to Vilkas and Lassarina. Vilkas gratefully took it but made no move to wake Lassarina, putting the dress to the side while Assa walked off to where she could change in private. Einarr looked at his father and saw him rummaging through the pack, pulling out a clean tunic and pulling it on.

"Are you just going to stand there all day staring, son, or are we going to talk?" his father asked him, arching a brow.

Einarr rubbed the back of his neck and lowered himself to the ground. "Sorry, I just don't know what to say . . ."

Thorolf sighed and ran his hand across his face. "Don't apologize. I honestly don't know what to say either." He looked over to Lassarina. "Why don't you go check on your sister? We can figure out what we want to say to each other."

"Nay. She's asleep and has obviously had a rough few months."

"You can't even imagine."

Einarr looked at his father awkwardly. "You're probably wondering about her. See, the thing is–"

"I know she's not my daughter," his father interrupted. "Assa told me what she knew about Lassarina. The bastard child of the Bear of Eastmarch and half-sister to Ulfric Stormcloak."

"Mother thought you were dead, or else she never would have–"

"You don't need to make excuses for your mother, son. It's as you said: she thought I was dead. I'm not angry with her." The sour expression on his face said otherwise. "I'll be happy just to see her again."

His whole body tensed as Einarr was struck with the realization that his father had no idea that the woman he loved was dead. How was he going to break the news to him?

"Da," he began with a mournful sigh. "About mother . . ."

Thorolf was already looking at him, his eyes darkened. "She's dead, isn't she?"

"Aye."

"How long ago?"

"It's been twenty years, I believe. Lassarina was only four when it happened."

Thorolf shook his head and buried his face in his hands, as if he were trying to make the whole world just go away in that moment. "Was it the Thalmor? Did they find her?"

"Nay, it was a man named Mercer Frey. Mother caught his eye, but she wasn't even remotely interested in him. He didn't care for being rejected, so . . ." He trailed off and let his father make a pretty good assumption over what happened. "After he was done with her he gave her some poison that slowly killed her. To the healers, it seemed as if she were dying from some sickness. Never occurred to us that she had been poisoned."

"Einarr . . . I'm so sorry you had to suffer through all of that. I tried escaping–"

"It isn't your fault, Da. If anything, it's Delphine's fault for coming to our home that night. She might as well have told the Thalmor where we were."

"Twenty-seven years you all thought I was dead, son. I can't get back that time. I missed out on everything! Your childhood, I didn't get to watch you grow up into a man. I don't know anything about you except that you're the Dragonborn."

He felt bad for his father, knowing that all of this couldn't be easy for him. It felt similar to when Einarr was reunited with Lassarina a couple of months after Alduin destroyed Helgen. They had been separated for sixteen years, and all he had known about her was outdated information. He doubted that his sister had still been interested in dolls and drawing in the dirt at age twenty. He also felt the same when reunited with Kiraya. But that had been a bit easier to adjust to, since she had still been young when he found her and they'd only been apart seven years. Einarr had to make it easier on him.

"Well, I'm Harbinger of the Companions," he started, offering his father a sympathetic smile. "It's been my job for the past four years. I spend my free time at the Skyforge, crafting weapons out of dragon bones and scales. I'm a widower–my wife died giving birth to our daughter thirteen years ago."

"You have a daughter?" Thorolf asked.

"Aye, her name is Kiraya. You'll meet her when we get to Whiterun."

"Kiraya. That's a rather . . . exotic name."

Einarr nodded. "It's a Khajiit name. After mother died, the matron of Honorhall wouldn't take me in, said I was too old, so they passed me onto a Khajiit caravan that had been camped outside of Riften. I traveled with them for about ten years before I left to find Lassarina. Faraya was one the caravan leader's daughters."

"So your wife was–"

"A Khajiit. Kiraya is half-Khajiit." Einarr's gaze hardened a bit and he looked directly into his father's eyes. "That isn't a problem, is it?"

His father stared right back at him for several moments before he smirked and shook his head. "Nay, not a problem. Love doesn't judge by race, son. I'm only sorry my granddaughter didn't have me around to spoil her when she was younger."

"She can still be spoiled."

Thorolf chuckled heartily and ran his fingers through his freshly trimmed hair. Einarr noticed him looking over to Lassarina and Vilkas with a sad look in his eyes. He looked over at his sister and saw that her face had gone tense, her brows drawn together. He recognized that very expression from when she was a little girl having a bad dream.

"How bad was it for her?" he asked his father.

Thorolf sighed and shook his head. "Bad. She said they were drugging her so she couldn't speak, so Elenwen wasn't torturing her for information. Thalmor bitch was just torturing her for fun. Only Elenwen was allowed to lay a hand on her, so she was only put through all that maybe four times a month, but it was always long and drawn out. I speak from experience."

"We just need to get her home. Back to her children."

"She has children?"

"Aye, two of them. Twin two-year olds, a boy and girl named Faolan and Lyanna. Should be three children but . . . she miscarried her first." He cleared his throat, trying to forget the sad event that caused his sister to spiral out of control and hit rock bottom. "They're lovely children, although a bit too mischievous for their own good. Lyanna looks just like her mother."

"When Elenwen had her moved out of her cell for the first time, I thought I was looking right at Freyja," Thorolf murmured, his voice distant. "I knew that couldn't be, Lassarina was far too young, so I realized that she had to be Freyja's daughter. Part of me hoped and dreaded that she was my daughter. Assa told me the truth, but it's still almost impossible for me to look at her and not think it."

"Lassarina never knew her real father. She was only a year old when Fjrokvar passed away and his son Ulfric had us banished from Windhelm. She didn't even know she was Ulfric's half-sister until four years ago. I don't think she'd object to you thinking of yourself as her father. She'd probably even offer to take you to mother's grave when she decides to make the trip to Riften to inform the Guild she's alive."

Thorolf looked at him sharply. "The Guild? The _Thieves _Guild?"

Einarr laughed and pulled two bottles of mead he purchased at Dragon Bridge out of his pack. "Welcome to our dysfunctional family, Da."

**oOo**

"Please, stop," Lassarina begged, tears streaming down her face. "Please, no more!"

"Lassarina, love, wake up!" Vilkas's voice urged her. "You're having a nightmare!"

She opened her eyes with a gasp and tried to sit up but was being securely held by Vilkas. Her whole body was trembling with fear from how real and intense her nightmare had been, but Vilkas was quickly soothing her with gentle kisses and reassuring words. He had far too much experience with soothing her after a nightmare, a skill he was forced to pick up when he and Finverior saw her through her rehabilitation when she quit taking skooma. Those nightmares had been just as terrifying as the one she had just had and took months to go away.

_How long until these go away? _she wondered to herself. _How long do I have to wake up screaming? Dread that the first thing I'll see is Elenwen's face as she's getting ready to cut into me?_

"You're all right, love," Vilkas told her, hugging her close. "You're safe."

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hiding her face against his chest.

"Nay, it's fine, don't apologize. You haven't been the only one having nightmares. Assa's been crying in her sleep, Thorald couldn't lay still, and the Argonian hasn't slept at all."

Lassarina pulled herself away from Vilkas as saw that the sky was already starting to light up with the beginning of dawn. They would arrive at Whiterun today after a week on the road. It took them a lot longer to travel on foot, especially since the majority of their group was weak and injured, but once they reached the city Einarr would hire a carriage to take Assa and Sinks-in-Dark-Waters back to Windhelm. Thorald Gray-Mane said he was going with them, since it was too risky outside of Stormcloak territory, and he was going to take his brother Avulstein with him. Einarr's father Thorolf would remain with them.

She was glad that her brother's father was still alive, and seeing them together, catching up after so much time apart, made her happy. It surprised her a bit when Thorolf first spoke to her, saying he wanted to get to know her better. He told Lassarina that since she was Freyja's daughter he couldn't help but feel she was like his own daughter. It wasn't something she had been expecting, but since she never knew her real father and her adopted father had been a disgusting pig, she liked the idea of having an actual father figure in her life.

"Everyone, wake up," Einarr called out. "We're only a few hours from Whiterun."

No one complained, and their makeshift camp was packed up quickly and tied to the saddles of Einarr and Vilkas's horses. Lassarina took the staff Vilkas handed her so she could lean on it as they walked. While she had healed her broken leg, it still ached when she put too much weight on it, so her brother had found a fallen tree branch and carved it into a crude staff to help her get around. She didn't need the staff much, however, since Vilkas was always by her side, arm around her waist and helping her every step of the way.

"Anxious to get home?" he asked her quietly.

Lassarina nodded and smiled at him. "I can't wait to see Faolan and Lyanna. The entire time I was locked up you and the twins were all I could think about." Her smile turned into a frown. "That and making Mallus pay for handing me to the Thalmor."

"Mallus has already been taken care of," her husband growled, his tone becoming angry and aggressive.

"How?"

"I contacted your friend Daine and asked her to help me track the bastard down. We found him a month ago in Markarth, and he told us that the Thalmor had hired him to trap you in the meadery. I didn't know you were still alive and broke his neck while I was strangling him."

"Good. That son of a bitch deserved it for making you all think I died and for making me receive torture at the hands of the Thalmor."

They fell silent after that, both of them stewing in their mutual anger of a dead man. Meeting no trouble on the road, they arrived at the Whiterun stables four hours later and Einarr led Assa and Sinks-in-Dark-Waters to the carriage. The pretty Nord woman hugged him, thanking him for saving her life, and then turned to Thorolf, embracing the old man and telling him to keep in touch and visit her in Windhelm. Once they got on the carriage and were on their way, Einarr led them up the trail to the gates, stopping at the sight that greeted them.

Normally there were only ever two bored guards standing in position in front of the Whiterun gates, but today there were four, all of them looking alert and drawing their blades when they heard people approaching. When they recognized Einarr, they lowered their weapons.

"Dragonborn," they greeted him.

"What's going on?" Einarr asked them.

One of the guards stepped forward, his face serious as he looked over to Vilkas. "Companion, there's been an incident at your home."

"What kind of incident?" Vilkas demanded.

Lassarina stepped forward, her heart racing. "What happened?"

The guards all looked shocked to see her alive and standing in front of them. "Dragonborn, you're–"

"Alive, aye, I'm aware," she cut them off sharply. "Now tell me what happened!"

"There was a break-in at your home three days ago," one of them explained. "The guards who had been patrolling the area were knocked out so they didn't see anything."

Vilkas let out an annoyed growl. "All the extra security over some thieves?"

"Nay . . . that wasn't all that happened. You see, Jorrvaskr's caretaker, Tilma, she was–"

"Was Tilma harmed?" Einarr demanded.

"They slit her throat, Dragonborn."

Lassarina gasped and covered her mouth, tears already forming in her eyes. Tilma was dead? The old woman had been like a grandmother to her and everyone in Jorrvaskr. She remembered how the elderly woman doted on her when Lassarina first came to Skyrim and was living with the Companions, working as a maid to make enough coin to get her to Riften. Tilma had constantly fed her, since she had been extremely thin back then and nursed her back to full health. Knowing she was now dead was almost too much to bear.

"Could it have been one of your thieves?" Vilkas asked her.

She shook her head and wiped away her tears. "Nay, they know not to steal from our family. I carved a Shadowmark of protection into our door as an added precaution just in case."

"That wasn't all," the guard spoke up.

Lassarina and Vilkas glared at him. "What else?"

"It pains me to have to tell you this, but . . . I'm sorry, but they also took something."

"What did they take?" Lassarina growled.

"Your children."

* * *

><p><em>Ever see videos of a mother lion and her cubs? Ever see what happens when something threatens her babies? Okay, well now you're going to see a Dragonborn who's pissed her babies were taken. Dragonborn Rampage people! It's going to be a blood bath!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	5. Chapter 5

_Just a Point A to Point B chapter._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Mad World by Gary Jules, In the End by Linkin Park_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Five<strong>**

****(31********st******** of the First Seed, 4E 205)****

Vilkas awoke when he felt the bed shift beside him and sat up at the sound of the door opening. He managed to see Lassarina's form step out of their bedroom just in time and quickly hurried out of bed to catch her. He followed her out of the room and found her standing in the doorway of Faolan and Lyanna's bedroom.

"Lassarina?" he quietly called out to her.

"I thought I'd come in and check on them," she explained without turning around. "I used to do it every night, just to make sure they were still okay."

Vilkas frowned and walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He could see she was staring at the bed that Faolan and Lyanna shared at night–the bed that was now empty. It pained him to not see their children there, but he knew that it couldn't compare to how his wife felt. All she talked about when they walked back from the prison was how she had been looking forward to seeing the twins again, how she had feared she'd never see them again.

That first day they returned and walked into their home, they were dumbstruck from the condition of the interior. Furniture overturned, a large scorch mark on the wall where the intruders had attempted to start a fire, and a large bloodstain on the floor where Tilma had been left to bleed out. Luckily the fire had been contained and the damage was easily fixable, but the blood stain wouldn't come out and likely never would. Lassarina had shut down after having taken it all in and stayed in bed all day, refusing to see anyone except Vilkas. It was if she thought that if she hid under the fur blanket, all her troubles would go away.

"Love, this is the third night in a row you've done this," Vilkas told her gently, not wanting to upset her.

"I should be out there with Einarr and Aela," she whispered. "I should be helping them look."

"Lassarina, you're still weak and injured."

"Then you could have gone!"

"I would have only slowed them down. Maybe if I still had the beastblood . . ." he trailed off, for the second time in his life wishing he were still a werewolf. "Lassarina, Einarr and Aela left the moment the guards told us. They missed Tilma's funeral so that they could stay on the scent trail. They'll find the twins. We just have to wait for them."

Lassarina pulled away from his embrace and sat down on the small bed, picking up one of Lyanna's many dolls and holding it. "It's my fault they were taken."

"Lassarina, don't say that."

"Nay, it is my fault. Elenwen thought that just having me would be enough, but I wouldn't break so she sent some of her agents to take Faolan and Lyanna. She would have used them as leverage against me or she would have just killed me and started fresh with them." He watched her shaking hands grip the doll tighter. "Gods . . . what if she hurts them? They're still babies; they wouldn't understand why they're being hurt!"

Vilkas walked over and gripped her shoulders. "They aren't going to hurt Faolan and Lyanna. Even without you, they're still perfect hostages. Trust me, they won't harm a hair on their heads."

Just looking at her distraught face broke his heart. He wanted nothing more than to go out and find his children, but he needed to stay with her and be strong. Vilkas didn't want her to be alone, fearing she might spiral out again and turn to dangerous vices to deal with her grief. The last thing the twins needed when they were returned was to have their mother on skooma again.

"Lassarina, let's go back to bed. You're only torturing yourself with this."

She hesitated for a moment, but finally she nodded and let Vilkas lead her back to their bedroom and tuck her under the warm fur blanket. He lay beside her, hugging her to his chest and stroking her hair soothingly as she drifted off. The slow, steady breaths a few minutes later signified she had fallen asleep, and he finally allowed the wall he built within him to crumble. His whole body shook with grief and guilt, and he felt disgusted with himself.

His wife blamed herself for the Thalmor taking their children, but in truth Vilkas was the one to blame. He just knew that the gods were punishing him for the way he had behaved when he thought Lassarina had died. They hadn't approved of how neglectful he had been to them during those dark four months when he cared more about the bottle in his hand than his only children. He ignored them, sleeping all day and drinking all night, not even worrying about whether they had eaten or not. Farkas and Avyanna had been the ones to take care of his children after Lassarina's "death," not him.

_Please, _he prayed silently. _Please, if you just give them back safe and sound, I swear I'll never neglect them again. Just please, bring our children back._

**oOo**

Thorolf sat at the large table in Jorrvaskr alone, sipping some mead out of a tankard and eating a sweetroll. It was very early in the morning, the sun having risen only an hour ago, but it was becoming his favorite time in the day. None of the Companions were awake yet except for the caretaker, Rona, and she was too busy distracting herself from her predecessor's death to take much notice of him. The poor Nord woman was so distraught over Tilma's death that she was furiously wiping down every inch of the hall with the rag in her hand.

_That Tilma must have meant a lot to everyone, _he thought to himself, having observed how everyone in the mead hall were in different states of mourning.

Einarr had left immediately after they arrived in Whiterun with Aela, an intimidating, red-haired Nord woman with war paint streaked across her face. They had gone to search for Lassarina's children, stating they needed to move while the trail was still fresh. Vilkas had been the one to take him to Jorrvaskr and ask Rona to make sure he was comfortable. It had made for an awkward few days, a strange old man suddenly appearing in the hall with no explanation from their Harbinger as to who he was and why he was there. Thorolf was thankful he had been allowed to stay in his son's room, since he didn't think he'd be too comfortable staying in the room many of the members shared. Apparently only high-ranking members of the Companions had their own private rooms.

He glanced up and stiffened a bit when he heard the door to the dormitories open and frowned distastefully when he saw the wolf that stayed in the hall lope up the stairs. The large gray-brown wolf noticed him right away and curled its lips slightly, a low growl rumbling in its throat as its fur fluffed out. Thorolf did not like the idea having a dangerous animal around him, but everyone else in the hall treated the animal as if it were a dog, scratching its ears and throwing scraps of food on the floor for it. Rona had told him that the wolf belonged to Lassarina and she had raised it from a pup so it was completely tame, but Thorolf still didn't trust it. He had hunted too many back in his day and had been bitten one too many times to feel comfortable around this one, and it seemed to sense that he didn't like it, because it sure didn't seem to like him, either.

"Fang, why are you growling?" muttered a sleepy voice coming up the stairs.

Thorolf stopped his glaring contest with the wolf and looked at his granddaughter just as she appeared. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been a bit shocked and unnerved at her appearance when he first saw her. She had the face and body of a Nord child, but had very obvious Khajiit features that would make her stand out in any crowd. Her ears and eyes were clearly feline and she had a tail gently swaying behind her. Honey-brown fur lightly dusted her arms and he assumed other parts of her body, and her canines were a lot longer and sharper than normal, as were her fingernails. He hadn't had the opportunity to speak to her in the few days he'd been there, having wanting his son with him when he spoke to her.

"Oh," she murmured when she saw him. "It's you."

"Good morning," he nodded politely. "You're awake early."

"Fang woke me. I think he wanted to go outside." Clicking her tongue to the wolf, she led him over to the back doors and let him out.

"You're just going to let him wander around freely?"

"The whole city knows that Fang is harmless," she explained with a shrug as she walked over and grabbed a sweetroll off the platter.

Thorolf nodded and motioned to the treat in her hand. "They're good, aren't they?"

Kiraya shrugged and frowned. "Tilma's were better."

Thorolf glanced at Rona, who had been the one to make the sweetrolls, and saw her scrubbing at the railing even harder. "You shouldn't say that. Rona worked hard to make them."

"Nay, it's fine," Rona suddenly spoke up, her voice tight. "Tilma's _were_ better. It's the same recipe, but I can't put in the same amount of love Tilma did."

Thorolf gave the woman a sympathetic smile and turned back to Kiraya, who was looking right at him with a hardened look in her eyes. She was studying him, trying to determine if he could be trusted or not. Thorolf couldn't help but notice that she looked a bit similar to Freyja when she had been Kiraya's age, but had some of Einarr's features. Her nose was definitely her father's, as were her hair/fur color, the color of her eyes, and even her expressions. He could remember seeing that inquisitive look in Einarr's eyes when he was a child.

"Were you locked up in the same prison as my aunt?" Kiraya asked him suddenly.

Thorolf cleared his throat and nodded. "Aye, I was. I had been a prisoner to the Thalmor for nearly thirty years."

Her eyes widened. "Whoa, that's a long time."

"I know, long enough that I had forgotten what sweetrolls and mead tasted like." He proceeded to take an enormous bite of the sweet treat, some of the icing sticking to his lips, causing Kiraya to smirk.

"Here." She offered him a linen napkin.

Thorolf took it and wiped his mouth. "Thank you."

"All right, so you're my grandfather, right?"

Thorolf looked at her surprised. "How'd you guess?"

"I didn't really need to. You look exactly like Papa, just older and with brown eyes. Grandma Freyja showed me what you looked like too."

That shocked Thorolf even more. "Wait, Freyja showed you? But she died before you were born; your father told me."

Kiraya shifted uncomfortably, biting into her sweetroll and speaking with her mouth full. "Well, I met grandmother in a dream last year. The Nine made her their envoy to speak to Papa and Aunt Lassarina in their dreams and get them to face their destinies as Dragonborn, but they wouldn't listen to her, so she came to me and asked for my help. She kind of took over my body for a couple of days to force Papa and Aunt Rina into swearing they'd face their destinies."

"Freyja's spirit _possessed _you?"

"Aye, and while she used my body she showed me Papa's past. I got to see him as a little boy, and I saw you and grandmother. I also saw him and my mama. Once grandmother was done using my body, she asked me not to tell Papa who she really was so he wouldn't be upset."

Thorolf let out a huge breath and raked his fingers through his hair, unsure how to process this. The Freyja he remembered wouldn't have backed her children into a corner the way she did. She would have told the world to take care of itself before forcing her children to walk into something as dangerous as the Dragonborn's destiny. But then again, Freyja couldn't have known her children were Dragonborn when they were growing up. She never even got the chance to watch them completely grow up.

"I didn't mind that she borrowed my body," Kiraya continued. "It was just a little push for Papa and Aunt Lassarina to do the right thing and be heroes. Thanks to them, Alduin is dead and we don't have to worry about him destroying the world. All that's left is for Papa and Aunt Rina to kill the rest of the dragons."

"You don't like dragons?" he asked her.

Kiraya angrily shook her head. "Nay, because of dragons Grandpa Za'Nir and Aunt Tahana and the rest of our caravan are dead. Papa almost died because of a dragon too. It was going to kill me, but he threw himself in front of it and it bit him." Her eyes darkened. "He lost a lot of blood and his bones broke. He didn't wake up for two months."

That bothered Thorolf a bit, knowing his only son had nearly died. He would still be locked up in the prison if that had happened, and so would Lassarina. The doors to Jorrvaskr suddenly opened and he looked up to see Vilkas leading in Lassarina, both of them looking tired and distraught.

"Aunt Rina!" Kiraya cried out, getting up from her chair and running up to her aunt to embrace her.

Even though they had been in Whiterun a few days now, Thorolf knew that this was the first time his granddaughter was seeing Lassarina. The young girl clung to her aunt, tears spilling down her cheeks. Lassarina herself was crying as well, but there was a hint of smile on her face as she stroked her niece's hair and kissed her cheeks.

"We thought you were dead!" Kiraya sobbed.

"I know," Lassarina murmured. "But I'm not. I'm right here, sweetie."

"Did the Thalmor hurt you?"

Thorolf saw Lassarina wince a bit before she answered, "Nay, they didn't hurt me. I was completely fine." She pulled away from Kiraya and wiped the tears from both her niece's and her own face. "Vilkas and I came to see if your father and Aela came back yet."

"They haven't," Thorolf answered sadly.

Vilkas immediately placed a hand on his wife's shoulder and led her to the table to sit down. "They'll be back soon, love."

"I don't understand why the Thalmor would take Faolan and Lyanna," Kiraya said, sitting down beside her aunt.

"It's hard to say," Thorolf answered. "I think the more likely reason is that they realized you had escaped and they needed leverage. It took us a week to walk here, more than enough time for the Thalmor to realize the prison had been attacked and cleared out. An agent could have reported back to Elenwen, and she could have sent them to take your children."

Lassarina hid her face in her hands. "I should have never gone to the meadery alone. If I had just taken you with me, Vilkas, none of this would have happened."

"I should have been more insistent," Vilkas spoke softly to his wife, stroking her stil-singed hair.

"Papa will find Faolan and Lyanna," Kiraya said. "He never loses a trail."

"Aye, I taught him how to track," Thorolf added.

Kiraya exchanged a look with Vilkas, both of them obviously sharing a secret, one that made Lassarina chuckle a bit. It bothered Thorolf, since he never enjoyed keeping secrets. The only time he found keeping a secret acceptable was when he and Freyja were in hiding from the Thalmor and hid their true identities to protect their family. He honestly wished he could go back to when he was Eirik, a simple hunter living in the woods of Falkreath with his wife Edana and their son Einarr. He would have moved his family the night Delphine came to them, found a new place to live just so he wouldn't have been taken from them.

"Kiraya, Vilkas, good morning," a high-born accent came from the stairs.

Thorolf stiffened and fought against the small bubble of panic that was beginning to form within him. He knew all about the Altmer, Julius, among the Companions, but he was not at all comfortable being in the same room with him. Lassarina clearly felt the same, and it was clear she hadn't been made aware of Julius, because the moment he spoke she got up so fast she knocked over the chair she had been sitting in. She grabbed a dinner knife from the table and pointed it at the high elf.

"What is an Altmer doing here?" she spat.

"Lassarina, stop!" Vilkas growled, wrenching the knife from her hand.

"Julius is a Companion," Kiraya added. "He's not Thalmor."

Julius had been holding his hands up in surrender, and looked extremely nervous. "So this is Einarr's sister then?"

"Forgive her, Julius, she's just a little nervous around Altmer right now," Vilkas apologized.

"Aye, and I have a right to be!" Lassarina snapped. "I've spent the last four months imprisoned in a _Thalmor _prison and was tortured by their chief Talos hunter!"

"Lassarina, listen to yourself! You're starting to sound like Ulfric!"

"Maybe Ulfric had a fucking point this whole time!" she pointed at Julius. "It's his people that formed the Thalmor!"

"Look, I'll just leave," Julius said. "I had to go out on a job anyway. I'm sorry if I've made anyone uneasy, but believe me, I have no ties to the Thalmor. In fact, I'm no more fond of them than Ulfric Stormcloak."

The Altmer left the mead hall, Thorolf keeping his eyes on the tall being the entire time he walked. He could sense that the elf was being sincere when he said he didn't care for the Thalmor, but it still didn't help him feel any less uneasy. Twenty-seven years of being a Thalmor prisoner left some very complex trauma rooted deeply within him, trauma that had been rooted in Lassarina as well.

"She's gone through a traumatic experience, Vilkas," Thorolf spoke softly. "Her mother was terrified of horses after being thrown off and breaking an arm as a child."

"The Thalmor should hopefully be gone soon," Vilkas said, righting the chair Lassarina knocked over and urging her to sit down. "When we thought she had died, I tracked down the owner of the meadery because I thought he had something to do with her death. He had been hired by the Thalmor to arrange the whole thing. I wrote to Ulfric afterward to see if he'd put up more of a front in the war efforts, but he never wrote back."

"I'll write to him as soon as Einarr and Aela come back," Lassarina added. "The Thalmor need to leave Skyrim within the year or things will just get worse."

The morning went by quickly after that. Members of the Companions woke to find Lassarina in the hall and welcomed her back affectionately, exchanging hugs, kisses, and in one case tears. Vilkas's brother, Farkas, came around sometime late in the morning and embraced Lassarina so tightly that Vilkas had to pull him off of her. Thorolf had been quite surprised to discover that Vilkas had a twin, but there were obvious differences between the two that made it easy to tell them apart. Farkas had brought his wife with him, a scarlet-haired Nord woman named Avyanna, and their two sons, Trystane and Kellen. Avyanna had been in hysterics when she finally saw Lassarina and the two women refused to let go of each other.

But at one point during the day Lassarina asked, "Where's Finn?"

"Winterhold," Vilkas was the one to answer her. "He . . . he didn't take your death well and has been doing things that are very strange, even for him. He's been staying with his uncle for the past couple of weeks."

"Is Finn another Companion?" Thorolf asked.

"In a way," Lassarina chuckled lightly. "He's a friend I met a couple of years back. We spent half a year traveling together."

"Is traveling another word for robbing Skyrim blind?" Farkas teased. "Finverior and Lassarina are our two thieving shield-siblings."

Thorolf nodded. "Ah, that's right, Einarr mentioned you were a thief."

"You don't grow up in Riften without learning a thing or two about stealing," she rationalized. "I don't steal as often anymore, though."

"Lassarina, your hair is a mess," Avyanna suddenly spoke up. "It's still singed."

"Well, they didn't exactly make me comfortable in the prison."

The woman handed the infant son she'd been cradling to Farkas and went over to a nearby room, coming out a moment later with sheers in hand. Thorolf looked at Farkas's son from where he sat and smiled at how sweet the boy looked. It had been so long since he'd seen a baby, and it made him mourn the life he'd missed out on. He and Freyja probably would have had more children if the Thalmor had never taken him. He remembered times when Einarr would run up to them and ask for a little brother to play with, but never a sister because he didn't like girls.

_Amusing that a sister was exactly what he got, _he thought to himself. _A sister that he clearly loves very much._

Thorolf had seen the tears of relief in his son's eyes back at the prison. It was the look of a man who had thought he had lost one of the few things he cared about, only to be reunited with them. Seeing his son in tears reassured him that even without his father around, he had been raised properly, into the man he always wanted his son to be.

He looked up at the sound of the doors opening and his son walked in, supporting the woman Aela. They were both filthy, their skin streaked with sweat, blood, and dirt. Bits of leaves and twigs were tangled in their disheveled hair and they wore fur clothing one would normally find on a bandit. Einarr was breathing heavily, each breath coming out like a hiss through his teeth. Aela was clutching her side with a pained look on her face and Thorolf could see blood seeping out through her fingers.

"Someone take her," Einarr commanded, passing Aela over to Athis. "Get her stitched up."

"Einarr, what happened?" Lassarina asked desperately, stumbling a bit when her injured leg buckled beneath the sudden weight. "Did you find them? Are Faolan and Lyanna all right?"

Einarr went over to a chair and sat down, grabbing a tankard and downing its contents with a few mighty gulps. Thorolf could tell something was wrong with him, a suspicion Einarr himself confirmed when he pulled up his shirt a bit and poured some water on a mean looking burn.

"Gods damn it!" he shouted when the cool water touched the wound.

"Einarr, let me heal you," Avyanna offered, walking over, her hands glowing golden.

"Nay, see to Aela first. She lost a lot of blood."

The scarlet-haired woman nodded reluctantly and followed Athis as he led Aela downstairs to the living quarters. Thorolf turned to his son, extremely concerned, and Lassarina was grilling him for information. The poor woman looked desperate, her chest heaving and her voice cracking with every word she spoke.

"Einarr, please, please tell me what happened," she begged. "Where are Faolan and Lyanna?"

Einarr took a few deep breaths, refusing to look at her before answering. "We couldn't find them . . ."

Lassarina had gone stiff and was staring at her brother, confused. "What do you mean you couldn't find them?"

"They were waiting for us on the road. A whole group of them, soldiers _and _mages. They completely ambushed us. It's a miracle we got away with the few wounds we received."

"Why did you come back? You should be out there looking for them!"

"Aela was severely wounded, Lassarina! She could have bled out!"

"You both obviously changed! She could have healed by eating one of them!"

Thorolf's eyes went wide just from the insanity behind Lassarina's last statement. _Eating one of them? One of the Thalmor?_

Einarr glanced over at him before shooting a warning look to his sister. "Lassarina, I know you're upset right now, but think before you speak."

But she was too hysterical to listen to him. "You abandoned them, Einarr! They still fucking have my children and you let the Thalmor take them further away from me!"

Vilkas stepped forward and grabbed his wife shoulders. "Lassarina–"

"Why did you come back?" she screamed, pulling away from Vilkas's hold and punching Einarr in the face.

"Lassarina!" Vilkas shouted, completely wrapping his arms around her and pulling her away as she continued to fight and kick out her legs.

"He let them get away with Faolan and Lyanna! They're gone! He left them!"

"Lassarina, I'll find them!" Einarr swore, standing up. "But I couldn't let Aela die! I don't care how long it takes, I am going to find them!"

"Nay! How can I believe a word you say? You swore to bring them back safely when you left! Where are they, Einarr? Where the fuck are my children!"

"Lassarina, you need to calm down!" Vilkas barked at his wife. "Yelling at Einarr isn't going to bring Faolan and Lyanna back any sooner!"

And with those words, Thorolf watched, in complete silence and shock as Lassarina crumpled in her husband's embrace, sobbing hysterically. She didn't seem to care that everyone in the hall was staring at her, but he could tell they understood. She was a mother who had her children taken away from her. It was a pain that no one could understand unless they personally experienced it. Thorolf felt a similar grief when he was taken from his family and as he stared at Lassarina he couldn't help but wonder:

_Was Freyja this heartbroken too?_

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><p><em>I watched a perfect freak out scene in this one show where an FBI agent had to go up to this mom and tell her that the bad people got away with her son. Really helped with writing Lassarina's reaction.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	6. Chapter 6

_You guys... are going to freaking HATE ME... Not my longest chapter but something big is happening._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Don't Speak by No Doubt, This Love by Maroon 5_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Six<strong>**

****(2********nd******** of Rain's Hand, 4E 205)****

Lassarina stared at the flames in front of her, listening to the wood crackle and pop. Her brother had returned the day before only to tell her that he didn't get Faolan and Lyanna back, and now she felt even more numb than she did before. Someone could walk right up to her and shove a dagger into her stomach and she probably wouldn't even flinch; in fact, she'd more than likely welcome that dagger.

_Stop thinking like that! _She scolded herself. _How are you supposed to get the twins back if you're dead?_

"I need to get better," she whispered. "I need to get out there and look for them."

Vilkas was already getting started on that. He and Einarr had been hovering over several maps of Skyrim, trying to determine where the Thalmor could have taken their children. The Thalmor prison would be too obvious, as would the embassy and Solitude. Thorolf had no doubt that there were more secret bases scattered all around Skyrim and that they would have to infiltrate all of them and look for information, whether it be found or forcibly extorted from Thalmor agents. But they also needed to work on removing the Dominion from Skyrim. Lassarina had been going to just let Ulfric handle it, but now it had become personal.

_I want to look into Elenwen's eyes the moment her heart stops beating._

A knock on the door made her look up from the flames and she stared at it for a moment, her hand tightening around the handle of her dagger.

"Rina, it's me, Anna," Avyanna's voice called out.

Lassarina let her shoulders relax and walked over to the door, unlocking it and letting her sister-in-law come inside. Avyanna had brought her son Kellen with her, and Lassarina got a good look at the boy for the first time since she got back. The last time she had seen Kellen, he had been a tiny thing, but now the five-month-old was a lot bigger. She couldn't help but feel an ache when she thought about how much Avyanna's son looked like Faolan, just with hazel eyes. Hazel eyes that were currently focused on her.

"He's gotten a lot bigger," she told Avyanna with a forced smile.

"Aye, he has," Avyanna replied awkwardly. "I would have left him at home, but Farkas is helping Vilkas, and while I trust Rohan to look after Trystane, I don't think he's quite ready to take care of Kellen."

Lassarina nodded and walked back to the chairs beside the fire pit, sitting right back down and staring into the flames once more. She could feel Avyanna watching her, but the woman said nothing as she walked over to the other chair and sat down, sitting Kellen on her lap.

"How are you feeling?" she finally asked. "Is your leg better?"

"It aches and stiffens up when it's too cold," Lassarina replied, rubbing her knee.

"Are you doing all right? I know it must be hard for you to be here."

"I keep expecting Faolan or Lyanna to call out for me, asking for a sweet or crying about something silly." She propped her elbows on her knees and hid her face in her hands. "I expected them to be here when Vilkas and Einarr rescued me from that prison."

"You'll get them back, Lassarina. The Thalmor won't hurt them."

"How could you possibly know that?" she snapped, tearing her hands away from her face and glaring at Avyanna. "They tortured me, and they wanted to use me. What makes you think they wouldn't hurt an innocent child?"

Avyanna frowned and her hold on Kellen tightened. "I don't know if they would hurt a child, but thinking negatively isn't going to help anyone. You just have to believe that Faolan and Lyanna are safe or you'll drive yourself mad with worry."

"That's easy for you to say, Avyanna! You have your kids with you! They haven't been kidnapped like mine have!"

"How dare you!" Avyanna's eyes blazed and she rose to her feet. "You think I'm not heartbroken over Faolan and Lyanna too? They're my niece and nephew, and I love them both as if they were my own children! Do you know how hard it was after we thought you died? Farkas and I were overwhelmed with Trystane and Kellen, but we still took care of them too!"

Lassarina felt extremely guilty at that moment. "Look, Avyanna, I'm sorry I snapped; I'm just feeling so helpless right now, not knowing anything about Faolan and Lyanna. I appreciate you and Farkas helping out Vilkas–"

"Helping out Vilkas? Hah! That's a laugh!"

"What do you mean?"

Avyanna sat back down, her face twisted in an angry scowl. "Lassarina, for the past four months, Farkas and I, Tilma, and your brother were the ones taking care of Faolan and Lyanna while your husband drank himself stupid! And after Vilkas finished sleeping off his hangover, he'd start drinking all over again! I don't care how torn up he was, thinking you were dead, it was no excuse to neglect the twins the way he did!"

Lassarina stared at Avyanna in complete shock. Granted, she knew Vilkas would have been depressed thinking that she had been dead those four months but she never thought that he would neglect the twins. He loved their children more than life itself. He barely slept the first week after they were born, just to make sure they were safe.

"He neglected them?" Lassarina repeated. "How?"

"He never paid any attention to them, Rina. He would lock himself in the bedroom and completely ignore them! They were desperate for attention, constantly crying–Farkas and I had to step in and bring them home with us."

Lassarina pressed a partially clenched fist to her mouth and released a breath around it.

"Lassarina?"

"Avyanna, could you please leave?" she asked her as calmly as she could. "I need to be alone right now. I need to think about this."

Avyanna just stared at her for a few moments, completely silent. The only sounds to be heard were the crackle and pop of the fire and Kellen's babbling. Finally, Avyanna got up and left the house, leaving Lassarina alone with her thoughts and her anger.

**oOo**

When Vilkas stepped inside Breezehome late in the evening, the fire in the pit had died down to a few pitiful embers. Lassarina was nowhere in sight, so he assumed she had gone upstairs to their bedroom.

"Lassarina?" he called out.

She didn't reply, but as he approached the stairs, he could hear movement coming from the bedroom. Vilkas climbed up the steps and walked over to the bedroom door, which was wide open. Inside, he found his wife dressed in her Nightingale armor, an angry glare in her eyes as she hastily threw things into an empty pack on top of the bed.

"Lassarina, what are you doing?" he asked her, confused.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" she snapped. "I'm packing."

"Why are you packing? We haven't figured out where to start searching for the twins yet."

"That's why I'm going to find people who _can _figure it out. I'm going to Windhelm, then Riften. I have the power to find them, so I'm going to use it."

Vilkas sighed, but walked over to the dresser. "Fine, let me just get my things together–"

"Nay, I don't want you to come with me."

He paused and looked at her. "What do you mean?"

"Did you not hear me, Vilkas? I said I don't want you to come with me."

Vilkas stared at his wife in confusion. He couldn't understand what was wrong with her. He knew that she was angry and depressed over their children being taken—he felt the same—but why was she venting her anger at him?

"Lassarina, what is wrong with you?" he asked her. "Why are you angry with me?"

She stopped packing and looked directly at him, her pale-blue eyes like shards of ice. "You're really asking me that? After what you did?"

"What I did? Lassarina, what are you talking ab–"

"You neglected our children for four months?"

If time could stand still, it did so in that exact moment. Vilkas forgot how to breathe, how to think; his mouth kept opening and closing, trying to form words, but not a sound came out. All he could do was listen to the blood roaring in his ears as he stared at his furious wife. How much did she know? Who told her?

"Avyanna," Lassarina said, as if she had guessed what he had been thinking. "She told me that for the last four months, she and Farkas had been taking care of _our _children because their _father _was too busy drinking himself to death!"

"I thought you were dead, Lassarina!" he snapped. "Do you know how hard that was on me? Do you have any idea how I felt when a guard came here to our home and said there had been an accident? I had to stand there and watch them pull what I thought was your broken and burned corpse out of that building!"

"And you think that makes it okay?"

"I felt like I was suffocating from my grief! That pain, thinking I had lost you forever . . . I had to wake up in this bed every morning expecting you to be sleeping right beside me, only to get slapped with the harsh reality that all I had left of you was your ring and your scent on that pillow, which got staler every single day."

"My ring and my pillow were all you had left of me?" she echoed harshly. "What about our fucking _children_, Vilkas? As I recall, we made them _together_!"

"Aye, our children," he spat. "Our children that had your eyes! Lyanna alone is the spitting image of you! Every day for the first month, they were constantly asking where you were, when you were coming back! I couldn't look at them, let alone answer them. How do you explain to a two-year-old that their mother is dead?"

"You couldn't look at them, so instead you decided to lock yourself in your room and drink until you forgot you even had children? What kind of a father does that?"

"One who was grieving for the wife he thought had died!"

"I didn't die!"

"We thought you did, Lassarina! The body had been burned beyond recognition but it was wearing _your _ring and _your _armor! It was confirmation enough."

"Aye, you assumed I died because the body had a fucking ring on it! That didn't prove anything, Vilkas!"

"That ring is one of a kind and you know it! You'll never find another moonstone ring with three pale sapphires on it anywhere in all of Tamriel!"

Lassarina scoffed and threw a shirt at his head. "Even if I did die, that's still no excuse for having done what you did!"

Vilkas pulled the shirt off his head and tossed it to the side angrily. "Oh, you're one to talk! I seem to recall you disappearing for six months because you couldn't deal with your grief!"

"That was di–"

"You didn't know how to deal with the miscarriage, so you started drinking heavily and then you fucked the first man who came up to you!"

Vilkas regretted the words the moment he said them, but he couldn't stop himself from continuing. Not even the look of horror and shock on Lassarina's face could stop his anger-fueled rant. "And then when alcohol wasn't enough for you, you teamed up with some piece of shit drug dealer and got addicted to skooma!"

"Shut up!" she screamed at him.

"Did you fuck Finverior too when you ran out of gold to buy skooma? Did you?"

Lassarina's face was twisted with anger and she walked right up to him, her hand swinging at him. He heard the slap echo around their bedroom before he felt it. His wife had struck him hard. He could feel his cheek burning and tasted a bit of blood on his lip where it must have scraped against a tooth.

"How dare you?" she whispered.

Vilkas scoffed and turned away.

Her hand grabbed his wrist and yanked him back and then she slapped him again. "Don't you fucking walk away from me!"

"Then don't make me sound like a bad parent when you did the same exact thing as me when things got too tough for you!"

"Those two situations were _nothing _alike, Vilkas! We didn't have children when I disappeared! In fact, we had just lost one! I didn't neglect anyone! I didn't _abandon _anyone!"

"You abandoned me!" he snarled. "Three times now since we've known each other, you've run off and abandoned me! This last one may not have been intentional, but the first two were! Three times I've had to feel the pain of losing you, of thinking I'd never fucking see you again!"

"So you think that drinking yourself senseless and ignoring your two children is all right?" She pointed an accusatory finger at him. "You were all they had left! You should have been there for them, telling them it was going to be all right!"

"You don't fucking get it, Lassarina!"

"Oh no, I get it! I married a man who can't be there for his children during a rough time! You emotionally abandoned them!"

Vilkas's anger was starting to build to dangerous levels and he felt like he was going to snap any second. "Lassarina . . . enough."

"You always said that you didn't want to end up like your father, but that's exactly what happened! You're just like Jergen!"

That was the final push. "Shut the fuck up!"

Vilkas turned to the small table they had in the corner of the room. Grabbing one of the chairs he flung it against the wall, hard enough to break on impact, and then smashed his fist on a dirty plate on the tabletop. It shattered beneath him, the shards cutting into his skin and making him bleed. He grabbed a second plate and threw it on the floor. He didn't care that he was breaking everything, he needed to vent his anger on something or he might vent it toward his wife.

She knew the severity of the insult, having listened to him throughout their marriage confess his fears of being a bad father. By putting him on the same level as the father that abandoned him and Farkas, she was both getting a reaction out of him and confirming his fears. It was the reason why Vilkas was reacting so strongly to the accusation, because it was true. He _had _been a bad father. He _had _abandoned his children. It may not have been physically, like Jergen had, but emotionally. He had blatantly ignored both Faolan and Lyanna, and now he had to live with the guilt of what he'd done. He looked over his shoulder at Lassarina and saw she hadn't moved and was glaring at him, her eyes watery.

"How dare you compare me to that worthless man?" Vilkas growled.

"How can I not, Vilkas?" she cried. "You always went on and on about how Jergen was a terrible father for abandoning you and Farkas. When I was pregnant you were constantly worrying that you'd be a bad father because of him, and when the twins were born, you swore to them that you were going to be a good father and always protect them and be there." Her words mixed with a sob and she paused to take a deep breath. "You didn't keep that promise."

"I never thought I would have to raise them alone, Lassarina."

"Really?" she scoffed. "We live in Skyrim. We're both Companions and I'm a thief _and _Dragonborn on top of that. Not to mention I'm Ulfric Stormcloak's younger sister. I might as well have a target painted to my back!"

"What do you want to me to do?" he shouted, turning to glare at her.

"Nothing . . . I don't want you to do anything."

He watched her shoulders slump and she sat on the edge of the bed. His wife looked like she had no strength left. Vilkas's gaze slid to the pack in the center of the bed.

"What happens now?" he asked her, slightly terrified of what her answer may be.

Lassarina took a deep breath. "I'm going to go to Windhelm and Riften . . . and I don't want you coming with me."

Vilkas winced. "What does that mean for us?"

"The man I married wouldn't have neglected his children the way he did," she explained, getting up and pulling her wedding ring off her finger. "I can't be with the man in front of me right now."

Vilkas stood there dumbstruck as Lassarina walked up to him and placed the wedding ring he had crafted for her in his hand. He had spent months looking for those sapphires, making sure the shade was just right so it would match her eyes perfectly. Those weeks in Riften he spent rehabilitating her and helping her kick her addiction to skooma, he was also trying to figure out the perfect way to ask her to marry him. Everything had been painstakingly planned so that moment would always be remembered as one of the greatest days of their lives. She had loved the ring from the moment she laid her eyes on it and now she was giving it back to him?

"You're leaving me?" he asked, his voice a shocked whisper.

"I can't be with you right now, Vilkas," she said, her voice cracking as tears began to run down her face. "Knowing what you did . . . I was never afraid to die because I thought if I did, that our children would have their father. Clearly I thought wrong."

Vilkas let the ring fall from his hand as he grabbed her shoulders, hunching over so their eyes were at the same level. "Lassarina, please, don't do this."

Her tears were streaming down her face faster and she turned her head. "Nay . . ."

He cupped the side of her face with a shaking hand and kissed her then, desperate to show her how much he loved her so she wouldn't leave, but her soft lips weren't reciprocating, their only movement the quivering that accompanied her tears. He pressed his forehead against hers as tears of his own formed in his eyes.

"Lassarina, please don't end this."

She let out an anguished sob and turned her head away. "Please, don't."

Vilkas fell to his knees and hugged her waist, hiding his face against her belly and kissing it. "Don't leave me. I'm begging you. I love you too much."

"I love you too, but I just can't be around you right now. I need some time away." She drew in a shaking breath and threaded her fingers through her hair. "Don't make this any harder."

"How can I not? You're leaving me!"

Lassarina shook her head and pulled away from him, walking back to the bed and closing up the pack before swinging it onto her shoulders. Vilkas stood up and glared at her.

"You always talked about wanting our children to have the childhood you never had. One with _both _of their parents in their lives. How will we give them that if you leave, Lassarina?"

"How can we give that to them when they aren't here? My children are missing, and I'm not going to sit around anymore. I'm going to look for them and take them back."

"And after that? Then what? How will we explain to our twins why their parents aren't together anymore?"

"We can tell them I left because their father neglected them!"

Vilkas's temper flared again and he bared his teeth at her. "Fine. You know what, Lassarina? Go! Just fucking leave! It's what you're good at!"

Lassarina opened her mouth to shout back at him, but quickly closed it. Whatever insult she was about to say died and more tears fell from her eyes. She gave him one final anguished look before she walked past him and out their bedroom door. Vilkas stood right in that spot, listening to her move around downstairs for a few more moments. The kitchen for food, the weapons rack for her ebony swords, the plaque above the door where he had hung her bow when they returned from the prison. It was quiet for several moments before he finally heard the door open and slam shut.

The sound caused Vilkas to snap once again and he turned to the table, grabbing one edge and violently turning it over. Everything that was on it crashed to the floor, shattering if it was fragile. Once the table was out of his way he started to punch the wall repeatedly, splitting open the skin of his knuckles and shouting and crying out in the midst of his anger and grief. How did everything go so wrong so fast?

Their marriage had been fine before the Thalmor had intervened. They had loved each other and couldn't be happier. He still loved her. He wanted nothing more than to run out of the house after her and bring her back, but he knew his wife and knew that she wouldn't. She was too angry and hurt right now to even look at him. Vilkas had thought their marriage would be strong enough to endure this.

Clearly he was wrong.

* * *

><p><em>Every marriage has a rough patch... This is Lassarina and Vilkas's rough patch.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	7. Chapter 7

_I got an Elder Scrolls Online BETA key so I'm gonna be off the radar until Monday! WOO HOO!_

_Also, FYI, there's no divorce in Skyrim. Only death can end a marriage._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: I honestly just listened to my station on Pandora_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Seven<strong>**

****(3********rd******** of Rain's Hand, 4E 205)****

"She did _what_?" Einarr exclaimed slamming down his tankard in shock.

Farkas pinched the bridge of his nose and repeated what he said. "Lassarina left Vilkas. She packed up her things and left the city last night. Vilkas damn near destroyed the house. A guard had to come and get me so I could calm him down."

"Why would she leave?" Thorolf asked curiously. "I haven't known either of them long, but from what I've seen, I can tell that man is completely devoted to her."

"She may have found out about how neglectful Vilkas had been to the twins when we all thought she was dead."

Einarr groaned and ran a hand across his face. "How did she find out about that?"

Farkas frowned and lowered his gaze. "Anna told her. . . . She thought Lassarina deserved to know. She's still pissed at Vilkas over his behavior."

_This is not how I wanted the day to go, _Einarr thought to himself.

The day had barely begun. He had only woken an hour ago and dressed so he could join his father for breakfast. Thorolf had told him how he woke early in the morning to avoid how crowded the dining hall became when the other Companions came up to eat and started waking up earlier himself so he could sit with him and catch up. Everything was already stressful enough without piling this onto their troubles.

"Honestly, I think our mother dropped her as a child, because she keeps doing stupid things," he growled. "Did she stop to think that the Thalmor could be hunting her down again? She shouldn't be alone."

"She sounds as headstrong as Freyja was," his father commented.

"Headstrong, just another word for stupid."

"She told Vilkas she was going to Windhelm and then Riften," Farkas told him. "It looks like she went on foot, though. I checked the stables, and all the horses were still there; and the carriage driver needed to get a wheel replaced, so he isn't able to go anywhere for a few days."

"Good, if I take Ally I can probably catch her and bring her back."

Einarr stood up and reached for his new dragonbone greatsword, when Kiraya ran upstairs with a note in her hand. He didn't need to know who it was from and just took it from his daughter, quickly reading it over. Once he read the messy scrawl of his sister's handwriting, he sighed and looked at Farkas.

"She took that blasted wolf."

**oOo**

"Good boy, Fang," Lassarina praised the gray-brown wolf as he brought the rabbit she had just shot and killed.

Fang dropped the body at her feet and wagged his tail as he laid down on the ground while Lassarina yanked the arrow out of the rabbit's eyes and got to work skinning it. Once she was done with her task, she'd cook up the haunches and let Fang devour the rest. She wasn't very hungry if she was being perfectly honest with herself, but she needed to keep her strength up if she was going to be searching for Faolan and Lyanna.

"Here you go, boy," she murmured, tossing the rabbit's entrails on the ground for Fang, who happily gobbled them up. "I doubt you need any more food, though. You've gotten fatter."

Fang licked his chops and looked at the rabbit she was still cleaning, a high-pitched whine rising from his throat. She smiled a bit and cut off the haunches before tossing the rest of the carcass to him. As she set to work cooking the meat, she sat on the ground beside her pet wolf and scratched his neck while he ate.

"You know what we're doing, right?" she asked him. "The Thalmor took Faolan and Lyanna, so we're going to find them and take them back. I didn't want to travel alone, so that's why I brought you. It'll be just like old times."

Fang's ears twitched, showing he was listening, but he seemed far more interested in the rabbit he was tearing into. She wished her beloved pet could talk back to her; it was starting to get hard to keep her emotions contained. Her mind was still whirling from what happened the day before. She had actually left Vilkas.

_Stupidest thing you have ever done! _a part of her brain shouted at her. _You love that man to death and you left him! Why do you always do stupid things like that without thinking? Why do you always run?_

The answer to that was because running was always easier; it was always what she did. Ever since she was a little girl, when things got too complicated or scary, she would run away from the problem and avoid it for as long as possible. She ran to Brynjolf when she was being bullied by a boy at Honorhall, she ran to the woods when her adopted brothers were looking for her, she ran to Brynjolf again when she caused Farkas and Vilkas to have a fight, she ran from her life when she miscarried her son, and now she was running from Vilkas again because she couldn't deal with the knowledge that he had neglected their children.

_You didn't run from your destiny, _a rational part of her mind said. _When you and Einarr had to face Alduin, you could have run, but you didn't._

Lassarina scoffed and shook her head. "Not true. Einarr and I avoided our destiny for three years. The gods sent our own mother to possess his daughter, just so we would do it. I didn't have a choice that time. I couldn't run."

_Just go back! Tell Vilkas you're sorry and that you didn't know what you were thinking! It's not too late. Go to him!_

"I can't . . . I can barely stand to look at him right now. Nay, I need some time away from him. Time I could spend finding my children."

_And what happens when you do find them? Will you and Vilkas still be separated? _

"After I find Faolan and Lyanna, we'll talk things out. Maybe before . . . I don't know."

The rabbit haunches finished cooking, and she quickly ate them up. Once she and Fang had finished eating, Lassarina kicked dirt over the small fire she built the night before and moved to the main road, heading north. If she wanted a better chance at finding her children, she needed more than just her husband and brother helping. She needed the Stormcloak army and the Thieves Guild. The Guild's far-spread network would give her eyes and ears in every major hold in Skyrim, and Ulfric's army would be the brute force she needed to take her former captors down.

She had been walking for a few hours when Fang's ears pricked up and the wolf stopped to look back at the road behind them. Lassarina turned as well and groaned when she saw the familiar sight of Einarr's brown mare riding towards them. Crossing her arms over her chest, she waited for him to catch up and glared at him when he was beside her.

"What were you thinking?" Einarr growled at her as he dismounted his mare.

"That I should have taken one of the horses when I left yesterday," she muttered. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"I'm here to try and bring my idiot sister back to Whiterun."

"Aye, that's not going to happen," she waved dismissively as she started walking again.

She heard Einarr growling in frustration behind her as he followed, leading his horse by the reins. "If it's because of Vilkas, you can stay in Jorrvaskr. I won't force the two of you back together."

"Good, because after what he did, some distance is the best thing for the both of us. But I'm still not going back."

"Why not?"

"Because if I go back, I'll be stuck in Jorrvaskr for days on end, going mad with worry for each day we don't find Faolan and Lyanna. I'm not going to sit around wasting time when I could be doing something about it."

"And what exactly is it that you're going to do, Lassarina?"

"I'm going to use what resources I have to find my children. My thieves will become my eyes and ears and Ulfric's army will be my boot, poised to kick down Thalmor doors."

"So what, you're going to join Ulfric's army? You do realize that by doing that you'll lose any neutrality you had in this war."

"I don't care, Einarr. A mother will do anything to get her children back safely, and I'm desperate. I trust the Companions with my life, but there just aren't enough of them to search Skyrim for two children."

"Then just use the Thieves Guild! You have fences in every city; that should be enough!"

"And when it comes time for a fight, they'll all be decimated. They're _thieves, _not soldiers. The only ones in the Guild that would be able to handle themselves in a full-on, head-to-head fight are Thrynn, Vex, Brynjolf, and _maybe _Vipir. We don't bloody our blades if we don't have to."

She glanced over her shoulder and saw her brother running his hand across his face. He was clearly frustrated, and she could tell that his patience was running thin.

"Look, I know you don't like Ulfric and you never approved of me being a thief, but I need to do anything and everything in my power to find Faolan and Lyanna, Einarr. Wouldn't you do the same if it were Kiraya?"

Einarr winced and looked at her with a defeated expression. "You know I would," he sighed. "Fine, but I'm going to take you. No sense walking all the way there when you can ride with me."

Lassarina smiled and walked over to Einarr, mounting the saddle and sitting behind him once he was on. Fang would run along beside them, but she was worried that the domesticated wolf might have trouble keeping up with Ally now. She asked Einarr not to push the horse too hard so that Fang could keep up, and he did so.

"So what was going through your mind when you left Vilkas?" her brother asked when they stopped to make camp in the evening.

Lassarina stiffened for a brief second before answering, "The same thing that always goes through my mind when something bad happens. Run."

"You'd run from your husband, a man who is completely and utterly devoted to you?"

"I didn't think, Einarr, okay? I was too angry at him to think clearly. The only thing that kept me sane while I was imprisoned was knowing that at least the twins had Vilkas. Then I find out in those four months, he could barely look at them."

"He was depressed. I've never seen a man look more lost than Vilkas did in those four months. It's like part of him died with you."

Lassarina could barely believe that her brother was defending Vilkas. "You're actually standing up for him?"

Einarr sighed and poked at the fire with a stick. "I can see where he's coming from. When Faraya died, I didn't think I'd be able to keep on living. The only thing that pulled me out of my depression was my responsibility to Kiraya."

"How can you see where he's coming from when you did the exact opposite and devoted all your time into your child?"

"Because I can understand what it's like to look at your child and only see their mother. I confronted Vilkas over the situation months ago, and he told me that all he could see when he looked at the twins were your eyes. Having them around was constant torture for him. He may have handled his grief the wrong way, but I'm sure he's been regretting it for a while now."

"How would you know?"

"I left Kiraya when she was two so that I could look for you. I basically abandoned her for seven years, Rina. There's not a day that goes by that I don't regret the decision. Every time I look at her, there's a little part of me that is constantly chastising myself for what I did. When we get the twins back, Vilkas will live with that guilt every day."

A tear had formed and rolled down her cheek during their conversation, and she hastily wiped it away. Einarr hadn't been fooled, though, and was now looking at her sympathetically.

"You already regret it, don't you, little sister?"

Lassarina bit the inside of her cheek and blinked rapidly to force back her tears. "Aye, I do. I still love him, even after what he did. But I still think some time apart would be good for us right now."

"Just promise me you'll sit down and talk to him next time you're together."

She hesitated, but nodded. "Aye, I will."

**oOo**

They reached Windhelm just after sunset the next day, and Lassarina pulled on her mask to avoid any confrontation with the guards. She didn't need to be escorted to the palace like every other time she'd been in the city. Many of the guards and citizens she and Einarr passed on their way there recognized her brother and greeted him as 'the mighty Dragonborn,' much to his annoyance.

"It's been like this ever since we defeated Alduin," he growled to her softly. "Everyone and their mother know who I am, and I fucking hate it."

"You never were one for attention," Lassarina chuckled, pulling her hood up as it began to snow.

"Nay, I prefer to sit alone in the dark corner than in the center of the room, present to everyone."

"Why, Einarr, you almost sound like a thief. We prefer to stick to the shadows too."

Her brother rolled his eyes and the walked the rest of the way in silence. The guards standing by the large double doors of the palace didn't give them any trouble, although they eyed Fang warily, and they stepped inside the warm main hall. The large feast table that stood in the center of the room was covered in food, but as usual only a few soldiers sat there eating. Lassarina's eyes moved to the stone throne that her brother should have been sitting in, but it was empty. She did, however, see Jorlief standing beside it.

"Let's go ask Jorlief where he is," Lassarina told her brother.

The jarl's steward was already eyeballing them as they approached and took a step back when he saw the large wolf walking beside her. "Gods damn it, why must you always bring a wild animal with you?"

The question had been directed at Einarr, since the steward was looking right at him, and her brother rolled his eyes. "He's tame and you know it. Now, why don't you do your job and fetch Ulfric for me."

"And why would I do that? You've made it perfectly clear that you're no friend to Jarl Ulfric."

"Jorlief, just do what he says," Lassarina sighed, pulling down her mask and revealing her face.

Jorlief's jaw dropped and his eyes went wide at the sight of her. "Y-you're alive! Assa spoke the truth!"

"Don't stand there gawking!" Einarr snapped. "Get Ulfric!"

Jorlief jumped and practically ran to the war room. Once he was gone, Einarr chuckled and had a satisfied smile on his face.

"The one joy I get from being famous," he told Lassarina. "When I'm angry I can make people jump right out of their boots."

"I do that all the time with the footpads in the Guild," Lassarina told him. "It's fun, isn't it?"

"Lassarina?"

She turned at the sound of Ulfric's voice. Apparently her half-brother had been in the war room with Galmar, who stood a few steps behind him. The look of shocked relief on his face made Lassarina start to realize exactly how much her supposed death had affected the people in her life. She and Ulfric weren't particularly close–only exchanging letters and short visits whenever she'd been in Windhelm in the past–so if he was this relieved to see her, she could only imagine what some of the Guild had gone through when the news of her "death" spread. Even Galmar looked relieved to see her alive and well, and Galmar _did not _like her.

"You really are alive," he almost whispered.

"Rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated," she joked.

Ulfric closed the distance between them, hesitating for only a moment before pulling her into an embrace. It was tense at first, but Lassarina quickly relaxed and rested her head on Ulfric's shoulder as he patted her back. When he pulled away, he still held her shoulders and looked her up and down.

"You look a little worse for wear," he muttered. "Your hair is shorter too."

Lassarina's hand touched the shortened locks, hanging just below her jawline, and openly grimaced. "It got burned in the fire I supposedly died in."

"One of our soldiers returned a few days ago," Galmar said, walking over and grasping her shoulder, squeezing it in a gesture of welcome. "She said that the Dragonborn had been imprisoned with her in a Thalmor prison."

"Aye, Assa spoke the truth," Einarr told them. "Vilkas and I attacked the prison ourselves to rescue Eorland Gray-Mane's son, Thorald. We found your soldier locked up there along with an Argonian courier, and my own father."

Ulfric and Galmar's brows rose and they looked at Einarr in shock.

"Your father is alive?" Ulfric asked.

"Aye, the Thalmor held him prisoner for twenty-seven years," Einarr replied with a frown. "They kept him alive because they thought he could be useful to them."

"Why would the Thalmor want a common man like him?" Galmar sniffed.

Lassarina rolled her eyes. "Einarr's father and our mother were living here under false identities to hide from the Thalmor, Galmar. His father was the son of the last Grandmaster of the Blades."

"Leif Windblade's boy?" Galmar huffed and tucked his thumbs into his belt. "I never met his son, but I did meet Leif during the Great War. Damned shame, the Thalmor robbed Tamriel of a good man. I heard rumors that his son fled Cyrodiil with his tail between his legs before the war even started."

Einarr's eyes narrowed and a growl rumbled in his throat. "Disrespect my father like that again, Galmar."

"Enough," Lassarina stepped between them, her eyes sharp as daggers. "We didn't come for petty arguments."

"And why did you come?" Ulfric asked, his brow perked in interest.

Lassarina turned to him, letting the desperation in her eyes show. "I need your help, Ulfric. When Einarr and Vilkas brought all of us back to Whiterun, the Thalmor had already been there. They took Faolan and Lyanna."

Ulfric exchanged a look with Galmar and they both released troubled sighs.

"It's safe to assume the Thalmor took them so the Imperials have Windhelm secured if the war turns in their favor," Einarr said, his voice low and bitter.

"And they would be right," Ulfric nodded with a troubled frown, "if Faolan and Lyanna had a claim."

"Or Lassarina, for that matter," Galmar added.

Lassarina furrowed her brows in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Ulfric wouldn't look at her. "When we heard you had died it made me realize that if my younger sister who is half my age can die, then I needed to make some changes to secure Windhelm on the off chance that I die too." He took a deep breath and finally met her eyes. "You remember Galmar's oldest daughter, Urska?"

"Aye, I also remembering hearing that you two were romantically involved. Why?" She suddenly froze and her eyes widened. "Wait, is she?"

Ulfric nodded. "She is."

Lassarina's whole body was tense with anger and she wanted to rip her hair out. "Gods damn it!"

Einarr already had a clear idea of what was going on. "You knocked her up?" He scoffed and looked at Galmar. "You must not have been all too happy to hear about that, huh, grandpa?"

"I love Ulfric like a brother and a son," Galmar spat. "I'm glad she's with him and not some smart-mouthed, disrespectful, ass like you."

"How far along is she?" Lassarina demanded.

"Jora says about two months," Ulfric told her. "We were planning on getting married soon."

"Nay, you can't marry her yet, and no one can know she's pregnant."

Ulfric glared at her. "And who are you to give me those orders?"

"The mother of your only niece and nephew that are currently Thalmor prisoners! Think about it, Ulfric; if you and I are dead, Faolan and Lyanna would be next in line. If the Thalmor learn that you have an heir, one of two things will happen. Either they'll kill Urska _and _your child, or they'll kill my children and _take_ Urska and your child. I don't think you want to risk either scenario, do you?"

Galmar's eyes were filled with anger and concern at the thought of his daughter's life in danger, and he turned to Ulfric. "As much as I hate agreeing with your sister, she's right about this. The Thalmor are looking for any excuse to weaken you, Ulfric."

"Then what do we do?" Ulfric asked, his nostrils flaring.

"Simple," Lassarina spoke up, her voice strong and determined. "I join your army, we rescue my children, and we kick the Thalmor out of Skyrim."

**oOo**

Einarr woke in the middle of the night to his stomach rumbling ravenously. He had been so exhausted from the trip to Windhelm that once Ulfric had Jorlief give them rooms for the night, he had just collapsed in the large plush bed and passed out, completely missing out on dinner. Now he was regretting that decision as he climbed out of bed and pulled his shirt and boots back on before leaving the guest room. Walking down the silent halls, Einarr found himself being guided toward the kitchens by memory alone. While it had been a long, _long _time since he had lived in Windhelm, he still remembered the year he had lived inside this very palace for a whole year.

He and his mother had been comfortable in their small home in the Gray Quarter–playing with the Dunmer children there had been one of his fondest memories as a boy. But the moment his mother had learned she was pregnant with Lassarina, Fjrokvar insisted that they both move into the palace. His mother had been reluctant, but eventually agreed since she realized she would need help when it came time to give birth to his sister. Einarr hadn't been very comfortable living in the palace– the guards wouldn't speak to him, the steward was rude, and his mother was always telling him to be nice to Fjrokvar (something he had been extremely reluctant to do). But the worst part of moving into the palace was that all of his friends in the Gray Quarter had stopped speaking to him, having come to the untrue conclusion that he thought he was better than them.

But he did remember how much fun he had exploring every inch of the palace. He had spent a lot of time in Fjrokvar's armory, secretly trying on helmets and pretending to be a mighty warrior who fought bandits and slayed dragons. It was only now as he thought back to his games that he saw the irony that his life had turned out exactly as it had in his imagination.

_Though I'm pretty sure I never once saw myself marrying a Khajiit, _he thought to himself with a chuckle. _Glad I did, though. We were happy, even if it was for a short while. _

As he opened the door to the war room, his superior hearing picked up on two voices quietly talking in the main hall. Walking closer to the hall that connected the two chambers, he recognized the voices as Lassarina's and Ulfric's.

"–was merciless," he heard Lassarina murmur. "She didn't even ask me any questions. She didn't want to interrogate me, she just wanted to torture me."

Einarr squeezed his eyes shut as he realized his sister was talking about her four months of captivity.

"How did you get over it, Ulfric?" she continued, her voice catching.

"Who said I had gotten over it?" Ulfric chuckled bitterly. "To this day I still have nightmares over everything I endured."

"The lashings–"

"The beatings–"

"The brandings," the both said at the same time.

Einarr opened his eyes and risked a peek into the main hall, seeing his sister and Ulfric sitting at the large table side-by-side. He held back the growl that was threatening to slip past his lips and caused by the topic of their conversation.

_Why is she sharing what she went through with him? _he thought angrily. _She hasn't even told me what happened, and we're closer than they are._

"You were branded too?" Ulfric asked her.

"Aye," his sister answered. "On my left shoulder blade. Where did they brand you?"

Einarr saw Ulfric pull down the collar of his loose linen shirt and revealed an old burn scar in the shape of an Amulet of Talos right above his heart. He had seen an identical one on his father's lower back the day after he and Vilkas rescued everyone, and it made him queasy just thinking that his little sister had suffered something so painful. Something Ulfric had experienced too.

_Maybe that's why she's sharing it with him, _the rational part of his mind thought. _Maybe she didn't tell me because she didn't think I'd understand._

"I'm just glad you're alive, Lassarina," Ulfric told her. "I promise, we'll get Faolan and Lyanna back and we'll drive the Thalmor out of Skyrim. They won't be able to hurt anyone else ever again."

"Just promise me I can be there when we cut Elenwen's head off," Lassarina muttered, her voice filled with blinding rage.

Einarr frowned and backed away, heading back to his room and locking the door behind him. Why did he have a bad feeling that this war was going to bring out an ugly side of his sister? And why didn't he feel the need to stop it?

* * *

><p><em>Uh Oh. Einarr is jealous over Lassarina and Ulfric bonding!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	8. Chapter 8

_So, The Elder Scrolls Online Beta was freaking awesome! I completely fell in love with it right away and drove over to Gamestop to preorder the Imperial edition while the server was under temporary maintenance. I spent $100 but I'll be getting so many perks out of it, including that fabulous Molag Bal statue! I'm going to place it right next to my desk and he's going to watch me while I play. _

_Anyways, this chapter is mostly Ulfric and Einarr talking. I wasn't too happy with how I wrote this chapter, but I guess I was overthinking it since my Beta Reader seemed to love it. She said Einarr and Ulfric's back and forth made her laugh._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Leave me Alone by Michael Jackson, Slap by Ludacris_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Eight<strong>**

****(6********th******** of Rain's Hand, 4E 205)****

The next morning when he woke up, Einarr saw the day going a specific way. He would eat some of Ulfric's food, speak with his sister for a little while, and then he would get on his horse and head back to Whiterun where he would organize the Companions to search for Faolan and Lyanna. It would have been the way he preferred things to go. But instead, when he got out of bed and opened the door, he found Ulfric standing there, poised to knock.

Einarr openly groaned and glared at the man. "What do you want, Ulfric?"

Ulfric returned the glare. "I thought we could talk."

"Now why in Oblivion would I want to do that?"

"Look, Einarr, I know you don't care for me, but like it or not, we share a sister and have to get along to some degree."

Einarr scoffed and leaned against the door frame. "I tolerate being in the same room as you for a short time. I think that's good enough."

"For the love of Talos, could we just sit down for a time and talk like two grown men?"

He stared at Ulfric for a moment or two, trying to figure out what the man could possibly want. They had never gotten along in the past, and Einarr had become comfortable with the set neutrality between the two of them. They tolerated each other mainly for Lassarina's sake, since she was making an effort to be close to both her brothers. But he and Ulfric shared no blood and there was no obligation for them to like each other, so why in Oblivion did he want to talk now?

"Fine," Einarr finally grumbled as he stepped away from the doorway. "I guess come inside."

Ulfric nodded and stepped into the room. Einarr closed the door behind him and walked over to the small table by the large fireplace. He poured himself a tumbler of Colovian brandy, guessing he was going to need something to relax him before this conversation was over.

"Want one?" he asked the jarl.

Ulfric nodded and took the tumbler Einarr poured for him. "Thank you."

Both men sat down at the table and sipped their drinks in silence. The tension in the air was thick as a foggy day in Morthal, and it was putting Einarr's wolf spirit on edge. Right as he was about to snap, Ulfric spoke up.

"You still hold a grudge for me banishing your family, don't you?"

"I do," Einarr stated simply.

"I apologized, though."

"Doesn't change what you did. Doesn't take back all the shit my family went through because of it."

"Einarr–"

"Did Lassarina ever tell you that we saw your father in Sovngarde?"

Ulfric's eyes widened. "My father?"

"Aye, and he told our sister something very interesting. He left a letter to you before he died, asking you to take care of my mother and Lassarina. He said that had he lived, Lassarina would have been raised here in Windhelm. Fjrokvar moved my mother and me into this very palace. We only moved out after he died."

"You–you know about the letter?"

Einarr nodded. "We both know. I'm surprised Lassarina hasn't demanded to see it. I wonder what else it said."

Ulfric shifted uncomfortably and Einarr saw the grip on his glass tighten. "Look, about the letter–"

"I'll bet you probably destroyed it a long time ago, so don't worry, I'm not going to ask for it."

"Then what in Oblivion do you want from me? I've already apologized."

Einarr gave him a cruel smile. "For argument's sake, why don't you try apologizing again?"

Ulfric scowled and gave him a look of fury. "I never thought you could be so petty."

"Being wrongly banished can do that to a person," Einarr shrugged, swirling his brandy.

For several moments, Ulfric just glowered at him before releasing a long breath. "Fine, you enormous ass. I'm sorry for banishing your family from Windhelm, it wasn't right, especially when my father's final request was for me to look after Lassarina and your mother."

Einarr drank the rest of his brandy in one huge gulp and poured himself another tumbler full before replying, "I don't forgive you."

The glass in Ulfric's hand shattered and he rose to his feet. "Then what the fuck do you want from me?"

Einarr took a sip and just stared up at Ulfric. He enjoyed that he was the one who made the jarl snap and get this furious. The man was too pissed to even notice his hand was bleeding badly. It was satisfying, even if it was petty of him.

"I want you to live with the guilt, Ulfric," Einarr told him, his voice calm but angry. "I want you to die knowing that our sister suffered a good amount of her life and it was all your fault. She lost her mother, grew up in an orphanage, was adopted by an abusive family and had to kill one of them while he was raping her. It's your fault, Ulfric. She didn't have to have that life, but because of you, she did."

"And where were you when all this happened to her?" Ulfric spat.

"They sold me off to a Khajiit caravan days after my mother died! I couldn't help her even if I wanted to because I was across the border days later! I might as well have been dead, since she lost me and mother in a matter of days!"

Ulfric's eye winced and he turned away. Einarr tossed a rag from the table at him for his hand. The fact that he had effectively shut the man up was satisfying, but the scent of blood was starting to overwhelm him and perk his wolf's interest.

"Wrap your damned hand, man," he growled. "You're dripping blood everywhere."

"My home, I can get blood on the floors if I want," Ulfric muttered, but wrapped his hand in the rag.

"So then, you'd ignore me if I asked you to leave?"

Ulfric sat back down, keeping pressure on his wound. "Aye, because we're not finished talking."

"Then please speak quickly. I've exhausted my ability to tolerate being around you."

"You're a real ass, you know that?"

"Only according to you, my jarl."

He watched Ulfric bite back a retort and close his eyes, taking several deep breaths before opening them again. Einarr knew he was wearing down Ulfric's patience and that he had already won the argument they were having, but he couldn't stop busting the man's balls. His grudge was rooted too deeply within him.

"All right," Ulfric said finally. "The reason I wanted to talk to you has to do with Lassarina and the war. I don't think it's the best idea for her to be seen in my ranks."

Einarr's brows rose in surprise. "For once, we're on the same page, Ulfric. I told her joining your army was idiotic."

"Hang on, I never said her joining was a bad idea. I said her being _seen _in my army was a bad idea. Having the Dragonborn support my cause is invaluable."

"So, what? You're going to have her stay here in Windhelm? No offense, but that's more idiotic than her enlisting." He set down his glass of brandy and leaned forward. "Her children were taken from her, man. She's not going to be complacent and just sit here in the palace twiddling her thumbs. Our sister is one of the most stubborn women in Skyrim, and she's determined to go out there and find Faolan and Lyanna herself."

"I wasn't going to ask her to stay here in the palace. I have something else in mind for our sister that could be useful in driving the Thalmor out of Skyrim. But let's not get off subject again; I have a proposition for you."

Einarr could already guess what that proposition was. "I'm listening."

"Join the Stormcloaks–"

"Nay."

Ulfric's eyes narrowed. "Would you hear me out first?"

"Be quick about it."

"I need the people to see that the Dragonborn has picked a side. You've stayed out of this war as long as you could, but it's time for you to make a decision, and I doubt you'll ally yourself with the Imperial army when they have the Thalmor on their side. This war has become personal now, Einarr. Those Thalmor bastards kidnapped our very own blood. We may not be brothers, or even friends, but we _are _uncles to Lassarina's children.

"That being said, all of Skyrim thinks that Lassarina is dead except us and the Thalmor. I think it would be best if they continue to think that; that way Lassarina can move about freely and do what needs to be done. No one will know she's among our ranks, not even the soldiers."

Einarr held up a hand to stop him. "There's already a huge flaw in your plan. All of Whiterun knows Lassarina is alive. A rumor like that will spread across Skyrim quickly."

"Not quickly enough for the Thalmor to be worried."

"Are you an idiot?" Einarr snapped. "Are you even listening to what you're saying?"

"Aye, I am. Lassarina will be presumed dead by the rest of Skyrim, a death we can now confirm was caused by the Thalmor. Everyone will rise up against the ones who robbed the land of the woman who defeated Alduin, especially when her brother, the man who struck the final blow to the World-Eater, is rallying the people."

Einarr scoffed and shook his head. He should have known that Ulfric wouldn't be happy with just one Dragonborn on his side,; he had to have both of them.

"And why would I join the Stormcloaks?" he asked.

"Because this war needs to end, and you're the only one who can end it," Ulfric told him plainly. "Everyone respects and looks up to the Dragonborn. If you take up my cause, this war can end quickly. I've been trying to win for years now and am no closer than I was four years ago."

"I've already said I want nothing to do with this war of yours. I'm Harbinger of the Companions and have remained neutral; I'd like to keep it that way."

"Don't you get it? It's gone too far and you can't remain neutral any longer. Any neutrality you had vanished the moment Faolan and Lyanna were taken by the Thalmor! You can't find the twins alone."

"I'm not alone. I have the Companions."

"And how much help will that be? Maybe ten people searching Skyrim? That's not enough, Einarr! You don't have the resources to pull this off!"

"You already have Lassarina; you don't need another Dragonborn."

"And I can't advertise that to the rest of Skyrim," Ulfric growled. "Think about it from this angle. What if the Thalmor catch wind of Lassarina fighting for the Stormcloaks? Do you think they'd keep the twins here? They'll take them across the border, and who knows if we'd ever see them again?"

Einarr fell silent. He hadn't thought of that, not even once. It did make a lot of sense, though. The Thalmor were fully capable of getting Faolan and Lyanna out of Skyrim at a moment's notice. They had kept his father imprisoned for nearly thirty years and if they felt threatened, the twins could be gone that long too.

_Damn it . . ._

"All right, you have a point there, but I still have problems with your 'cause,'" Einarr grumbled.

"Like what?"

"Say you win this war, then what? Skyrim will have a racist man for their High King. Nords will be on top and the other races will get the short end of the stick. You have no respect for anyone that isn't Nord. I can't swear my blade to a man like that."

Ulfric stared at him for a moment before nodding. "Then why don't we set up some terms so that we can achieve a mutual partnership?"

Einarr picked up his brandy glass and took a long sip. "What kind of terms? And will I be able to add some of my own?"

"Aye."

"Okay, then I'll start. _If _I join your army, and _if _you become High King, you need to swear that you will treat everyone in Skyrim _equally._ I'm not going to let my daughter feel like a she's a second-class citizen when I've worked too hard to make her confident in herself."

"I never planned to treat anyone any differently, no matter what their race."

Einarr rolled his eyes. "Aye, I'll believe that when you fix up the Gray Quarter. It's fucked up that the Dunmer in _your _city live in such terrible conditions."

Ulfric shrugged a shoulder and glared at him. "All of the city's treasury is going into war efforts."

"For a pointless war."

"Fine, when we've won the war, I promise to fix up the Gray Quarter. But you have to speak at the moot once the war is over. I'm not going to to just take the position of High King; I'm going to let the other jarls have a voice in choosing Skyrim's next ruler."

"I can agree to that, if you can agree to give me a voice in the war room."

"I had planned on that. Despite us not getting along, your opinion is valuable. You know how the common folk think."

Einarr smirked. "Aye, I know what the majority of the population thinks of you."

If that bothered Ulfric at all, he let it slide for the moment. "You have to swear your loyalty to the Stormcloaks and publicly speak in my favor."

"I won't speak in your favor, but I will speak out against the Thalmor. They're the only common ground of hate between the two of us. I want them gone just as much as you do, believe me." He finished off his brandy and was beginning to feel a pleasant buzz in his head. "I don't want to fight with your men, though. I work better with people I trust."

"Then you can assemble your own team of people you prefer."

Einarr nodded, satisfied with that. "Good, I already have two people in mind, but that can come later." He thought long and hard for a minute, trying to come up with another term to their agreement. That's when it hit him and he spoke confidently, "All right, my final term: Lassarina and any of her children will have no claim to Windhelm. Ever."

"Urska is already pregnant with my child; any claim she and her children had are gone."

"You never know, something could go wrong," Einarr said quietly, ducking his head.

"I'm sorry, was that a threat?"

Einarr glanced up and gave Ulfric a pained look. "Nay, I'm just speaking from personal experience. I wouldn't wish anything as bad as losing a loved one on anyone, not even my enemies."

Ulfric's glare immediately turned into a frown."I'm sorry," he murmured.

Einarr shrugged, guessing Ulfric had remembered he had lost his own wife in childbirth. Einarr was lucky he still had Kiraya, but that didn't replace the scar left in his heart. "We were too far from a town or a healer. There wasn't anything that could be done except save Kiraya." He shook his head. "Those are all my terms; do you have any more?"

Ulfric nodded. "Aye, just one. Elenwen is mine. I want to chop her head off myself."

"You might have to fight Lassarina for that privilege."

"I don't think she'll mind so long as we get her children back." He leaned forward and looked him in the eyes. "So what do you say? Will you join the Stormcloaks?"

Einarr hesitated in that moment. He had gone through the whole process of setting up terms, and he really _did _want to make the Thalmor leave Skyrim. He didn't have any problems with the Imperial army, if he didn't count Helgen when they tried to execute both him and Lassarina. He doubted that the Imperials even knew what the Thalmor had done, or had been doing all these years. Who knew how many people they had kidnapped or killed? It had to stop.

"As much as I don't like you, this war _does_ need to stop," he said finally. "The Thalmor have hurt Tamriel too much and need to be stopped. So, aye, I'll join. But just know this Ulfric. In no way does this make us friends."

**oOo**

When Lassarina opened the door to her room, she was shocked to see Ulfric leaving Einarr's room right across the hall. The jarl didn't see her as he moved down the hall toward the war room, so once he was out of sight she walked over to her brother's room and let herself in. Einarr was sitting at the small table beside the fireplace, a tumbler of brandy in his hand and a sour expression on his face. A closer inspection of the surrounding area revealed shards of glass all over the floor at his feet and drops of blood staining the stone.

"Gods, Einarr, you didn't get into a fight with Ulfric, did you?" she groaned, walking over and looking him over for any blood.

"Nay, he just broke a glass and cut up his hand," Einarr replied, his eyes getting that foggy look they got whenever he started to get drunk.

Lassarina looked over at the bottle of brandy and saw that half of it was gone. Brandy was the one type of alcohol that got Einarr drunk really quickly, and the Colovian brand was really strong. Sitting down in the chair across from him, she shook her head and glared at him.

"Don't you even think about riding back to Whiterun until you've sobered up," she hissed.

"Aye, I won't, now stop nagging me, woman," he growled, tipping back his head and drinking what was left in his glass.

"Why was Ulfric in here?"

"He wanted to talk to me about joining the Stormcloaks."

She scoffed and shook her head. "I guess he didn't realize you'd never–"

"I said I would."

Lassarina's eyes widened and she looked at her brother in disbelief. "You joined? But . . . why? You despise Ulfric!"

Einarr shrugged a shoulder and frowned. "I did it for you and the twins. He said he needed the people of Skyrim to see that the Dragonborn has finally picked a side."

"But _I'm _Dragonborn too! I'm Ulfric's gods-damned sister; the people already assume I'm on his side! You don't need to get involved, Einarr!"

"Nay, I do need to get involved. The Stormcloaks need a Dragonborn to rally the people, but that can't be you. If the Thalmor catch wind of you having joined the Stormcloaks, how long until they make the twins disappear like they did with my father?"

She gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. That thought hadn't crossed her mind when she left Whiterun to ask Ulfric for help. She just assumed that the Thalmor would keep the twins in Skyrim and patiently wait for the Imperial army to win the war. But now that Einarr mentioned it, what _was _stopping them from taking them somewhere else? Somewhere she wouldn't ever be able to get to them?

"And just what am I supposed to do?" she demanded. "Stay hidden away and let other people do what I should be doing? I refuse to do that, Einarr! I need to help find my children!"

"Ulfric said he had something else in mind for you," he explained. "He didn't tell me exactly what that was, but it's probably better than fighting out in the front lines. No offense, Rina, but you're not exactly a soldier."

Lassarina glared and rose from the chair, stalking out of Einarr's room and slamming the door behind her. Ulfric had a lot of nerve, plotting all of this behind her back. Well, he wasn't just going to get away with it. She stomped through the hall and down the stairs, practically kicking down the door to the war room and glaring daggers at Ulfric. He had been standing over the map of Skyrim with Galmar and Yrsarald beside him, but was now looking at her.

"Lassarina, what is it?" he asked curiously.

"Plotting the whole war behind my back?" she hissed. "And what is it you have planned for me? Am I going to sit here in Windhelm and take up knitting?"

"Like you can knit," Galmar scoffed. "Or do anything feminine."

She whirled on Galmar and took a predatory step toward him. "Aye, I'd shove those needles into your eyes before I knitted anything!"

"Calm down!" Ulfric spat. "I never intended to have you stay put. The job I have in mind for you is more dangerous than being a simple foot soldier."

Lassarina crossed her arms over her chest and narrowed her eyes. "Then tell me what that job is right now."

"It's an idea I had last night," Yrsarald spoke up. "I thought back to the times you broke into the palace and robbed Ulfric. You managed to get in and out of here without anyone seeing or hearing you."

"That's because I'm a master thief," she couldn't help but mention smugly.

"And because you can turn invisible," Galmar added dryly. "Or did you forget you did that when we had your drug-withdrawled ass locked up in one of the upstairs rooms?"

"As I was saying," Yrsarald continued, raising his voice to grab their attention once again. "The one thing the Stormcloaks are desperately lacking are spies and scouts. If you can round up a group of your thieves together, you can be our spies and scouts."

_Okay, that actually sounds like a brilliant idea, _Lassarina thought to herself, her shoulders relaxing and her arms uncrossing.

"We receive word of secret Thalmor strongholds and bases all the time, but the majority of them are outside Stormcloak territory," Ulfric said, moving to the map and pointing at small black flags pinned across it. "From the numer of thieves we've spotted or arrested over the years, I'm guessing the Guild is pretty diverse, meaning you can get into the Imperials' territory without any problems and infiltrate these strongholds one by one."

Lassarina moved to the map and counted how many black flags were on the western side of Skyrim. "There's got to be over twenty bases. How are we supposed to infiltrate them all without tipping the Thalmor off?"

"That's a problem you'll need to figure out," Galmar told her. "Maybe you and your _thieves _will come up with something."

Lassarina studied the map for several long minutes before she nodded. "All right, I want a copy of this map and a horse. I'm leaving for Riften."

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><p><em>That's right everyone! We're going back to Riften!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	9. Chapter 9

_This chapter is something I've been excited to write for a few days now. Riften has always been my favorite city in all of Skyrim and for Lassarina it's her one true home. True, she was more than happy to settle down in Whiterun with her family, but Riften will always be the place she grew up and the place that drew her back to Skyrim in the first place._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: __Runaway by Linkin Park,__Photograph by Nickelback, __I'll be there for you by the Remembrandts _

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Nine<strong>**

****(8********th******** of Rain's Hand, 205 4E)****

The guards at the Riften gates didn't need to see her face to know to grant her entry into the city. They took one look at her Nightingale armor and immediately opened the doors, nodding respectfully as she walked past them with Fang at her side. Lassarina was making sure to keep her face hidden after being filled in on Ulfric's strategy to win more support for the Stormcloaks. As long as the rest of Skyrim continued to think she was dead, they'd turn against the Thalmor once the knowledge that they were the ones who "killed" her spread throughout the land. So now she had to remain out of sight, never showing her face publicly.

_I'm just glad I have this mask, _she thought to herself, adjusting the mask of her Nightingale armor.

It was past sunset, so the streets were virtually deserted, except for the guards that patrolled with torches in hand. While they eyed the wolf beside her warily, they were smart enough not to say anything about him. She quietly made her way to the graveyard, pausing briefly in front of the mansion that formerly belonged to Mercer Frey but now served as a bunkhouse for the Guild's thieves. Looking at the manor brought back memories of when Vilkas and Finverior stayed with her to help her get over her addiction to skooma. It was also where Vilkas asked her to marry him for the second time.

_Vilkas . . ._

She squeezed her eyes shut at the thought of her husband and continued to walk toward the graveyard. She couldn't allow herself to think about her problems with Vilkas at the moment, not when she had to think about getting Faolan and Lyanna back. So she passed the Temple of Mara and walked through the cemetery, over to the crypt that served as the hidden entrance to the Thieves Guild. Lassarina stopped for a moment to run her fingers across the carved face of the stone coffin. The diamond symbol of the Guild with a circle in the center; the circle that also happened to be the button to activate the mechanism that moved the coffin back.

"It's good to be back," she whispered to herself as she pressed the button and revealed the hidden entrance.

When she climbed down the small flight of steps and reached for the hatch, Fang let out a high-pitch whine. She turned to her pet and frowned, only then realizing that the Ratway would have been the wiser entrance to take. There was no way she'd be able to carry the large wolf down the ladder.

"Just wait here for now, all right, Fang?" she told the wolf, scratching his ears affectionately. "I'll have one of the men carry you down the ladder."

Satisfied that Fang understood, she moved aside the wooden hatch that covered the ladder and slid down with practiced ease. Lassarina didn't know why she expected the Cistern to look different after four months–maybe it was because those four months felt like four years for her–but part of her was glad to see that it looked exactly the same. The familiarity of the place brought a feeling of comfort, which was something she desperately needed after the past few days.

"Who in Oblivion are you?" demanded a familiar voice by the cooking pot.

Lassarina turned and saw Vipir, Thrynn, and Sapphire staring at her, alarm and hostility in their eyes. She had forgotten that the Guild still thought she was dead, so it was only natural that they'd be suspicious of someone they assumed was a stranger.

"Wait, isn't that Karliah's armor?" Vipir asked, lowering his dagger for a brief moment.

"Nay, she's is in the training room with Niruin; I just came from there," Thrynn growled.

"So I guess I'll ask again," Sapphire muttered, walking right up to Lassarina and holding her own dagger between them. "Who in Oblivion are you?"

"I'm not surprised you'd be hostile," Lassarina sighed, reaching up and pulling down her mask. "You all thought I was dead."

Sapphire's dagger clattered as it hit the ground. The three thieves before her all had identical looks of shock on their faces and had been rendered speechless.

"I expected you all to be surprised," she chuckled softly. "But I also expected some questions. You know like, 'How are you alive?'"

"How _are _you alive?" Thrynn asked, finally coming down from the initial shock. "We were told you died in a fire!"

"Aye, I heard that too, but it wasn't true. I _was _inside the building when it was on fire, but it wasn't my body they found. The Thalmor had planned it so people would think it had been me. No one would come looking for me and they were free to keep me imprisoned for as long as they wanted."

"Wait, the Thalmor imprisoned you?" Sapphire gasped.

Lassarina nodded. "I was locked up and tortured for four months. It's all very dark and traumatizing, but we'll get into it later. Right now I need you to get Brynjolf, Karliah, Delvin, and Vex and bring them here."

"Brynjolf and Delvin are playing cards in the Flagon, but I don't think Vex will be coming," Vipir told her. "She had her baby three months back and has temporarily retired from the Guild. Rune's taken over her responsibilities."

"Then bring Rune over. I need to talk to them right now. Oh, Thrynn, you look strong enough. Could you carry my wolf down the ladder for me?"

"Your what?" the former bandit gaped.

"My wolf. If you're worried about getting mauled, don't be. He won't bite you."

The three thieves nodded, and Lassarina moved across the cistern to the messy desk at the other end. It was all too easy to remember seeing Mercer standing behind it, sneering the moment he looked up and barking out orders left and right. She had never liked the former Guildmaster and was glad he was dead. She saw that someone–probably Delvin–had put several of the rare treasures she had collected during her past jobs on display in the shelves behind the desk. She stood in front of them, admiring and remembering each one: the Queen Bee statue, the Honningbrew decanter, the East Empire shipping map, the model ship, the Dwemer puzzle cube, the bust of the Gray Fox, even the left Eye of the Falmer. Each of them a memory on the road to her becoming Guildmaster.

She had been so lost in her thoughts and memories, she didn't hear the footsteps approach. It was only the familiar and much-loved accent of Brynjolf's that snapped her out of it.

"Is it really you, lass?"

Lassarina's lips curled up in a smile and she turned to face her oldest and dearest friend, standing with the other senior members. They were all equally shocked to see her, but she also saw joy and relief in all of their eyes.

"Hope you didn't get used to being Guildmaster, Bryn, because I'll be taking my position back," she told him teasingly.

Brynjolf laughed and skirted around the desk to pull her into a tight embrace. "Take the damned job. I hated being Guildmaster." His hold on her tightened and his voice broke a bit as he added, "Gods, I missed you, lass. When we thought you died . . . well, let's just say a lot of us took the news harder than others. Especially me."

Lassarina couldn't stop the tears pricking her eyes and blinked rapidly to try and hide them. "You have no idea how glad I am to be back."

Brynjolf was forced to release her when Karliah moved in and practically shoved him aside. The Dunmer woman had tears in her eyes as she hugged her close.

"We thought you had died," she explained in her soft, melodic voice.

"I didn't," Lassarina told her, pulling away and wiping tears away from her eyes.

"Where were you, girl?" Delvin asked, walking over and giving her a pat on the back.

"I was in a Thalmor prison for the past four months. The only reason I'm here now is thanks to pure luck. They'd taken Eorland Gray-Mane's son prisoner too, and Einarr offered to rescue him. He and Vilkas were the ones who found me."

"We haven't been too fond of the damned Thalmor ever since they took Etienne, but now we definitely hate them," Rune muttered angrily.

Lassarina scoffed and the smile that had been on her face was replaced with a scowl. "You can't even begin to imagine how much I hate them. What they've done to me . . ."

"Lass, you don't have to talk about it," Brynjolf told her, squeezing her shoulder. "We're just relieved to see you alive and well."

She reached up to place her hand over his and gave him a sad look before turning to everyone else. "I actually came here for a reason. I have a job and I need help."

"A job?" Karliah echoed. "Lassarina, you were just rescued from a Thalmor prison. Shouldn't you take a break?"

"Aye, I stopped by Whiterun about a month after you had supposedly died," Brynjolf added with a frown. "I went to collect some things-your Nightingale armor and the amulet of articulation, mainly. Vilkas was an absolute mess and threw me out when I mentioned taking your armor. You should spend some time with your family."

"If I had the option to do that, I would," Lassarina muttered tightly. "But I received an unpleasant surprise when I got back to Whiterun. The Thalmor had gotten there ahead of us and they _took _Faolan and Lyanna."

Her senior members went completely silent, simply staring at Lassarina in shock. For a moment it looked like they couldn't understand what had just been said, but then she saw it register on all their faces. Brynjolf and Karliah looked ready to murder someone, while Delvin and Rune just looked furious. The entire Guild had met the twins when Lassarina and Vilkas had come to Riften for Brynjolf's wedding five months ago, and nearly all of them had fallen in love with her precious children.

"What do you need us to do, lass?" Brynjolf asked her, his voice strong and determined.

"I originally went to Ulfric for help, since I didn't want to involve the Guild in any fighting, and we came up with an arrangement," she explained. "The Stormcloaks will help me get my children back, but they won't be able to step outside of their own borders, which is more than likely where Faolan and Lyanna are. That is where we come in. Ulfric asked that I form a team of people to act as spies and scouts. With this map of Thalmor strongholds and bases he provided me with, we'll infiltrate all of them and search for any information that can lead me to my children."

Karliah smirked. "Thieves _do _make the best spies."

"Which is exactly why I came here. Now, I won't lie to you-if you do this, you'll basically be helping the Stormcloak army in this war. I promised Ulfric he can have any information we find that can be used in his favor. I understand that some of you wouldn't want to be affiliated with him in any way, so if you don't want to help, just tell me now."

Lassarina felt her chest swell in happiness when none of them spoke.

"This isn't even about who wins the war anymore," Delvin put in simply. "This is about the Guild finally getting back at the Thalmor for messing with our people."

"First Etienne, then you," Rune added. "And now they have the audacity to take children? They need to be stopped."

"You can always count on us to help you, lass," Brynjolf told her. "No matter how crazy or dangerous the request."

"Thank you," she breathed, extremely relieved that they were on board. "I won't even need the whole Guild. I only really need a few of you." She looked to Delvin. "I'd want you to stay behind and run things when we're gone."

"That's fine wit' me," the bald Breton nodded.

She turned to Brynjolf and Karliah. "Both of you will be coming with me, of course."

Karliah and Brynjolf exchanged a knowing look before the Dunmer turned back and asked, "Who else did you have in mind?"

"Amelia would be a welcome addition. I got to see her in action back in Blackreach and I was impressed." Then Lassarina looked at Rune. "And since you seem to be moving up in the Guild, I'd like for you to be a part of this team as well, Rune."

Rune smiled a bit and nodded his head. "I'd love to help."

"I'll have to talk with Amelia about it, but I don't think she'd say no," Brynjolf said, scratching his chin. "Especially when I tell her that the twins were kidnapped. I had to practically yank Faolan out of her arms when you brought them for the wedding."

"Watch yourself, or soon she'll be askin' you to put one in her," Delvin chuckled.

Brynjolf glared at Delvin and lightly punched his shoulder. "Like there's any way in Oblivion I'd have a kid."

But Lassarina saw the soft look in Brynjolf's green eyes. It was extremely subtle and well hidden, but she had learned how to look for it at a very young age. A slight upturn of the lips, his eyelids drawing together just a bit. It was clear that the man who she saw as a brother and practically raised her after her mother died wasn't all too opposed to the idea of having a child of his own. He seemed to love her own children well enough, and she thought he'd make a great father.

"Did you have anyone else in mind?" Karliah asked her.

"Aye, one other person, but I don't know where he is and I can't waste any time searching for him," Lassarina sighed. "We can make do with the people I've chosen."

Her thieves nodded and then decided to take it upon themselves to welcome her back in the best way they knew how: by drinking. They led Lassarina all the way to the Ragged Flagon, where she was welcomed back with hugs, pats on the back, and mead. Tankard after tankard of mead. It had been months since she'd had a drink other than water, so she decided to indulge herself while she could.

_ Gods know I've earned it, _she thought to herself as she took the first sip of many to come.

**oOo**

It was only after everyone had drunk themselves to the point of no return and left the underground bar that Lassarina decided drinking had been a bad idea. In the past, whenever she consumed too much alcohol she tended to make bad decisions. Alcohol was what made her sleep with Vorstag in Markarth after her miscarriage, and it was also the reason she started taking skooma shortly after that. Her bad decision this time was drinking while struggling to contain her feelings toward her fight with Vilkas.

Ever since Einarr and Vilkas rescued her from the Thalmor prison, Lassarina had been suffering from terrible insomnia and wasn't able to get more than a couple of hours of sleep every night. And what sleep she _did _get was always interrupted by her own screams of terror. The nightmares that plagued her were always the same. She'd be back in that prison cell with a single candle illuminating the area, and standing right in front of her, with flames enveloping her hands, Elenwen would be there, sneering down at her before she started inflicting pain.

She had thought that by drinking, she'd be able to pass out and have a few blissful hours of uninterrupted, drunken sleep, but instead Lassarina was wide awake and staring into her tankard, bleary eyed and depressed. It was well past midnight and Vekel had retired over an hour ago, along with the rest of the Guild, leaving her all alone in the now-silent tavern; her only companion was the tankard in her hands. She would have counted Fang, but her pet wolf was too preoccupied with hunting down the rats that scurried around the Cistern, quickly earning him Vekel's praise since the damned cat he kept for that very job was too lazy to even swat a fly.

_I can't believe I told him he was exactly like Jergen, _she groaned internally.

Out of all the things she could have said to hurt him, she chose the worst thing possible. Lassarina knew how Vilkas felt toward his adopted father. It was a long-standing grudge that had formed the moment the man walked out on the two boys he swore to take care of. It was what drove Vilkas to be a good father when the twins were born, and she always thought of him as just that: a good father. Her husband may be a short tempered man who always seemed to scowl more often than smile, but he poured every ounce of love and devotion he had into their children.

_If he's such a good father, why did he neglect our babies? _the bitter part of her demanded angrily. _You were right to leave him!_

_ He was grieving for us, though, _a rational, regretful part of her argued. _Wouldn't we have mourned just as badly?_

_ We wouldn't have neglected our children!_

_ How do you know that? We always run away when things get too hard for us! We're cowards!_

"Shut up!" Lassarina snapped out loud, willing the voices to be quiet. "I already feel bad enough without every part of me arguing with each other."

_We're _your _thoughts, _the logical part of her mind stated. _We're merely voicing your inner turmoil since you're clearly avoiding any unpleasant thoughts right now. You refuse to let yourself feel anything._

_ Why can't you just let yourself go? _her rational side asked. _You're alone now. Just let your feelings out before you destroy yourself all over again! You can't let yourself fall to harmful vices again!_

Just thinking about those six months after she killed Mercer Frey brought forth the tell-tale craving for skooma. While she hadn't touched the stuff in three years, she still got the urge every now and then. Her hands would start to shake badly and she'd get extremely irritable. But she never allowed herself to give in to her urges and had done a good job staying clean this whole time.

"I'm not going to cave," she whispered to herself, clutching her tankard tightly. "I don't need skooma."

_You say that, but what will you do when you have a vial right in front of you? _her logic asked her seriously.

"Please, just leave me alone," she begged, tears forming in her eyes.

Laying one arm across the table in front of her, she rested her forehead against it and started to cry. It felt extremely liberating, letting all the bottled-in emotion out, but it also made her body and soul ache for comfort. She wished Vilkas was with her, holding her close and stroking her hair like he always did whenever she was feeling down. But he wasn't there, and it only made her feel even more lonesome.

_I'd even take a friend right now, _she thought to herself.

That's when she felt the presence of someone standing behind her. She was about to lift her head up and look over her shoulder to see who it was, when a familiar voice spoke.

"What's wrong, lovely lady? Someone break your heart?"

Lassarina's head snapped up with a shocked gasp, and she practically jumped out of her chair just to launch herself into Finverior's awaiting embrace. Laughter and more tears spilled out of her, and she clutched to the leather vest he wore over his cotton shirt and hugged him tightly.

"You have no idea how glad I am to see you," she murmured into his shoulder.

He abruptly pulled away, both his hands cupping either side of her face right before he pressed his lips to hers. For a moment, she was stunned by the kiss, but was so desperate for any form of comfort that she let it continue. But then Vilkas face flashed in her mind. Lassarina let out a squeak of annoyance and moved her hands to his shoulders, roughly pushing him away.

"Gods damn it, Finverior!" she spat, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "Why do you always have to do something like that?"

Finverior flashed her a mischievous grin and shrugged a shoulder. "I can't help that you're gorgeous, Rina. I get you're married and all, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to make a pass at you when I can."

She rolled her eyes and quickly let her annoyance slide so she could hug the Bosmer again. "Surprisingly enough, you were one of the people I really missed those four months."

Finverior's body tensed a bit and he pulled back to look down on her, a sad frown on his face. "What happened? I thought–we all thought you were–"

"Dead," she finished. "Aye, I know. It was all a Thalmor trap. My leg had been pinned underneath one of the wooden beams and they had an easy time taking me. The body that was found, it was just some woman they killed and put my things on."

"So this whole time you weren't dead? You were a Thalmor captive?"

"One that was personally tortured by Elenwen."

Finverior's warm, amber eyes hardened and turned icy in that moment, and his grip on her shoulders tightened to the point of bruising. Back when the Great War was still going on, Finverior had enlisted with the Dominion and worked as a spy and scout for them to divert attention away from his rebel family. It had worked for a while, despite his family casting him out for it, but in the end the Dominion had killed them and had Finverior left with a dishonorable discharge.

"Should we break into the embassy and slit her throat while she sleeps?" he asked her, his voice harsh and angry.

"As much as I would _love _to do just that, it would be a bad move," Lassarina sighed, shrugging Finverior's hands off and taking a seat at the table again. "Instead, you can tell me why you're here in Riften. Last I heard, you were visiting your bed warmer in Winterhold."

Her friend took a seat across from her and actually looked a bit embarrassed. He was chewing on the end of his thumbnail, something he always did when he was withholding some juicy gossip, and his eyes had a shifty look to them. Lassarina brought her tankard to her lips to hide the smirk on her face.

"Well," he murmured, looking down at the wooden table. "I came here to, uh, well . . . I kind of, sort of got . . . married."

Lassarina spit out the bit of mead in her mouth all over Finverior's face and began coughing madly. "You–" *cough cough* "– got married?"

Finverior had an annoyed look on his face and he wiped the mead off. "Yes, I got married. To Onmund, in case you were wondering."

She still couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You, _Finverior, _the man-whore of Skyrim?"

"Yes, me, Finverior, the man-whore of Skyrim." He sighed and pushed his shoulder-length red hair away from his face. "Look, Rina, when we thought you died, it affected all of us. It made me realize how sad and lonely my life really is."

"Your life isn't sad, Finn."

"Really? Because after you died, I couldn't think of one reason to stay in Whiterun. I spent so much of my life being cast aside, I never got a chance to form bonds with anyone. Even all the women I knocked up don't want anything to do with me, except for a bit of gold every now and then. There's only a handful of people I give a shit about in this freezing country, and you're one of them. When you died . . . it made me reevaluate my entire life. I don't want to be the man who can't even remember the name of the person he wakes up next to anymore."

"And so you decided to marry Onmund?"

"Well, I didn't change overnight," he amended. "At first I started going to Winterhold to see my uncle. Not counting my kids, he's the only family I have left. Onmund and I started getting to know each other a bit better, and I popped the question about a week ago. We got married early this afternoon and spent the rest of the day in our room at the inn. I went down to the bar to grab a bottle of anything and overheard one of the thieves telling Talen-Jei that you were back. I came down to confirm it, 'cause frankly, I didn't believe it at first."

Lassarina smiled a bit and reached across the table, taking his hand in hers. "Sometimes I don't believe it myself."

"You look like shit, if I may say."

She let out a huff. "Aye, I know. I haven't really slept. I keep thinking that I'll wake up in that prison cell again and that my escape was just a dream." She frowned and felt a painful pang in her chest. "Freedom was supposed to be a dream come true, but the Thalmor turned it into a nightmare."

Finverior squeezed her hand in comfort. "The nightmares will go away soon enough, honey."

"Nay, they won't, Finn. Being free _is _the nightmare. I thought everything would go back to normal the minute I got back to Whiterun, but the Thalmor ruined any chance of that happening when they" -she paused to control the sob that threatened to escape- "when they took Faolan and Lyanna."

Finverior's eyes widened and he jumped up from his seat. "They did _what_?"

She looked him in the eyes and repeated it again. "They _took _Faolan and Lyanna. Einarr and Vilkas were the ones who rescued me and the other prisoners from the Thalmor prison. When we got back to Whiterun, the guards said someone broke into our house, killed Tilma, and took the twins!"

Her Bosmer friend swore loudly and kicked over the nearest chair in his fit of anger before grabbing one of the many empty bottles lying around the tables and throwing them against a stack of crates by the water. She watched in silence, feeling numb inside the entire time as she patiently waited for him to get it out of his system. Despite being one of the most lecherous men she knew, Finverior was actually very fond of children and surprisingly good with them. Whenever he came around the twins, he would always fawn over them with attention and play with them or make them laugh with his silly faces and tricks. Lassarina suspected he was attached to her children because he never really got a chance to raise his own, so she was more than happy to let the Bosmer find some joy through her children.

When Finverior finally calmed down enough to sit back down, he turned his smoldering gaze to her. "When do we go out and get them back?"

"That's actually part of the reason I'm here," Lassarina told him. "I went to Ulfric for help first, and he'll give it, but he also said I'm better suited for spy and scout work rather than being a foot soldier. Plus it wouldn't be good for the twins if the Thalmor learned I joined the Stormcloaks."

"No, it wouldn't. If they're still in Skyrim, they'd be moved the second they learned you had an army behind you."

"Exactly, which is why he asked me to put together a team of people I trust to help me infiltrate several Thalmor bases that they've heard about over the years. I'll be able to secretly search for the twins and provide the Stormcloaks with intel that could potentially help drive them out of Skyrim. I had hoped that you would be part of that team, since you know how the Thalmor think, but I wasn't going to waste time traveling to Winterhold."

"Well, you don't need to go to Winterhold. I'm right here and I'm going to help."

Lassarina frowned. "But you just got married. Won't Onmund be mad?"

Finverior shrugged. "He'll understand once I explain it to him. Besides, he needs to return to the college anyway. He doesn't graduate until the fall." He grabbed her tankard and took a long sip from it. "Though, I've got to say, I can't see Vilkas doing any sneaking around successfully."

When she lowered her gaze, she knew she had tipped him off that something was wrong.

"Rina, what is it?"

"Vilkas isn't here," she told him.

"What? What do you mean he isn't here? Where is he?"

"He's back in Whiterun. He's not going to be helping me with this."

"And why in Oblivion not?" her friend demanded. "You're his wife! They're _his _children! What could he possibly be thinking?"

"He's probably thinking what a bitch I am," she murmured sadly. "I am the one who left him after all."

Finverior arched a brow at her, confused, but then some clarity came to his eyes and he glared at her. "Gods damn it, woman. What did you do now?"

"What I always do. I couldn't deal with my problems so I ran away."

He sighed heavily and ran a hand across his face. "All right, let's hear it. Why did you leave this time?"

"Avyanna told me that he neglected Faolan and Lyanna those four months you all thought I was dead. I never thought he would do something like that. I just got so mad at him, and I left that night. I already regret it . . ."

"He was fucking depressed, Lassarina. What did you expect him to do? Completely forget about you and act like you _didn't _die?"

"Nay, but–"

"But nothing! Give the man a fucking break! He was so torn up over your death that he didn't leave the house for days! He refused to let anyone in and just stayed locked up in there with the twins. He didn't even come to your funeral. I was the one that ended up lighting the pyre."

She was stunned into silence by the harsh tone of his voice and just stared at him, wide eyed like a child being scolded by her parent.

"That man loves you more than anything, idiot! He loves you more than your brother loves you, shit, even more than _I_ love you!"

Her eyes widened even more. "You what?"

"What? Is it that surprising that I love you?" he scoffed. "Listen, you dumb bitch, you and I have been through too much for me _not _to feel anything for you. It's not even a romantic thing; I love you like family, like a sister or a daughter. I would do _anything _for you; just say the word."

Lassarina ducked her head and clutched at a tuft of her short hair. "I– I don't know what to say."

"Fine, then I'll tell you what to do. You're going to watch me finish this mead and then you're going to promise me that you're going to deal with this problem the first chance you get. No more running away, Lassarina, understand?"

"Aye . . . I understand." She looked up and glared at him. "You're a real ass, you know that?"

He smirked at her and finished the mead. "Of course I know that. I'm fucking Finverior."

* * *

><p><em>When I told BrunetteAuthorette99 how I was going to reunite Lassarina and Finverior, she was super psyched at the method. Did anyone notice that the first thing he said to her in this chapter was also what he said to her when they first met? Also, how many of you saw him getting married? LMAO! Finverior, the Man-Whore of Skyrim! I also discussed the whole love between Finn and Rina with Brunette and we agreed that there are feelings there between the two of them. They're each other's best friend and they'll always be there for each other and love each other.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	10. Chapter 10

_Another point A to point B chapter. Einarr needed to go back to Whiterun really quick to settle his affairs before going off to war after all._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Scream and Shout by will. _

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Ten<strong>**

****(8********th******** of Rain's Hand, 205 4E)****

Einarr rode Allie right into her stall in the Whiterun stables just to get out of the pouring rain for a few minutes. Dismounting the mare, he pulled off the hood of his cloak, muttering under his breath how it didn't keep him dry at all. The storm had hit them about an hour ago and he had been forced to push his mount a little harder than he liked. Wringing some of the excess water out of his hair, he got to work on settling Allie down. The dark-brown horse was clearly exhausted, breathing heavily and tossing her mane every so often to shake off some of the water clinging to her.

"Sorry I pushed you, girl," Einarr murmured soothingly to her as he gently massaged her neck. "How about I get Skulvar to include some carrots and apples to your feed?"

Allie snorted and pawed the ground with one hoof. The mare was one of the best things Einarr had purchased over the years, and he grew more thankful for her every day. Not only was she sweet and mild tempered, but she was also extremely intelligent and even knew how to help him out in a fight. She had been a bit wary around him when he'd taken the beast blood, but she had gotten used to it over the years and it didn't seem to bother her anymore.

"All right, I'm going to go pay your board for the month, and I'll be back tomorrow," he told the horse, giving her one last pat on the neck. "So you just spend the rest of the day relaxing and doing whatever it is you do when I'm not around."

Pulling the hood of his cloak back on, Einarr jogged over to Skulvar's house and banged on the door, sticking close to the wall to try and keep out of the rain. The door opened after a moment and Skulvar's son, Jervar, stood in the doorway.

"Dragonborn, what brings you to our house?" Jervar asked as he stepped aside and motioned him to come inside.

"Jervar, please, I've told you a thousand times before, it's Einarr," he sighed.

"Sorry."

"It's fine. Anyway, I'm here to pay for Allie's board for the month. Where's your father?"

"Right here," Skulvar announced with a yawn as he stepped out of one of the nearby rooms. "Einarr, it's good to see you." He looked him up and down. "You weren't riding out in that, were you?"

"I was coming back from Windhelm and the storm caught us," he chuckled as he pulled out the pouch of coins he had set aside the night before. "Two hundred and fifty septims, like always, and an extra fifty for some apples and carrots."

Skulvar took the pouch and set it on the nearby table. "I'm glad you're here, Einarr. I've been meaning to talk to you about your mare."

Einarr arched a brow. "What, is something wrong with her? She seemed fine on the road."

"Oh, she's fine, I actually wanted to talk to you about breeding her."

"Breeding her?"

"Aye, Queen Alfsigr is one of the best horses I've ever bred, and I was wondering if you'd let me breed her with one of the stallions."

Einarr clenched and unclenched his hand a couple of times and frowned. "The timing is a little bad, Skulvar. I'm going to be constantly riding in the coming months."

"Aye, which is why I'd offer you one of the younger horses to use in the meantime. I only ask now because she's at a good age for it."

Einarr sighed and shrugged a shoulder. "I'll think about it. I'll give you my answer tomorrow."

He left the small house after that and trudged up the sloping road to the Whiterun gates. He made his way through the city as quickly as possible, sparing a quick glance at Breezehome as he passed it. Part of Einarr wondered how Vilkas was handling the separation, and he made a point to stop by and see his brother-in-law before he headed back to Windhelm. Just because the two weren't together at the moment didn't mean Vilkas didn't have a right to know what was being done to get the twins back and it didn't mean that it should affect their friendship.

Stepping into Jorrvaskr, Einarr welcomed the warmth of the constantly burning firepit and removed his cloak, hanging it on a hook on the wall. Last thing he wanted was to anger Tilma by dripping puddles everywhere. He stiffened when his mind quickly corrected him, reminding him that Tilma wasn't with them anymore. It still didn't feel real, but the caretaker was dead and the thought of never seeing her wrinkled smile again brought a stabbing pain to Einarr's heart.

"Einarr!" shouted a small voice accompanying the stomping of feet.

By this point it was a reflex for Einarr as he turned and quickly crouched with his arms open to catch Randulf as he tackled into him. He replaced the frown on his face with a smile as he lifted the three-year-old boy up and ruffled the messy mop of black hair on his head.

"You're wet," Randulf pointed out, grabbing onto a lock of dripping hair.

"Aye, I am," he chuckled as he walked over to the tables where Aela had been sitting. "Were you and your mother eating?"

"_I _was eating," Aela sighed. "But Randulf was being stubborn and picky."

"I don't like fish," Randulf grumbled.

Einarr set him down in the chair beside his mother and gave him a stern look. "Randulf, how do you expect to grow up into a big and strong warrior if you don't eat your food?"

"But it smells funny!"

"But it tastes good," Einarr added as he leaned over the chair, cut a piece of the salmon steak and brought it to his mouth. "See? I like it."

Randulf regarded him with his pale-green eyes for a moment before pinching his nose and bringing a piece of the salmon to his mouth. Einarr and Aela watched him as he chewed for a moment and then swallowed it.

"Good job, lad," Einarr said, ruffling the boy's hair. "You keep eating and Kiraya and I will join you once I've changed out of these wet clothes."

"Actually, Kiraya went to Farkas and Avyanna's with Rohan," Aela informed him.

Einarr was a bit annoyed by that. He had been hoping to spend some time with Kiraya before he returned to Windhelm, but it seemed like his daughter cared more about spending time with her friends than with her father. The fact that the friend was a boy wasn't making him feel any better, either. With a resigned sigh, he headed downstairs to his room and changed into something dry. When he stepped out of his bedroom, he was surprised to see his father sitting down at the small table of his anteroom.

"Did you find your sister?" Thorolf asked him with a worried frown.

"Aye, I took her to Windhelm and then she left for Riften," he replied, taking a seat beside him. "She's going to do whatever it is she needs to do to get her kids back."

"She's fighting the Thalmor all alone, Einarr. It's unlikely she'll be able to force them out of Skyrim on her own."

"She's not alone in this, Da. I'm going to help her, and even if we don't drive the Thalmor out, we'll at least get her children back."

His father stared at him for a moment before nodding. "I can already see you have a plan."

Einarr arched a brow and smirked at him. "What makes you say that?"

"You've got that same look in your eye you used to get as a boy when you're plotting something. It's how your mother knew you were up to no good."

Einarr chuckled and shook his head. He had always wondered how his mother seemed to know exactly what he was about to do before he did it, and it seemed like it was his own damned fault. Pushing a few damp strands away from his face, he stretched his back and got up.

"I should get back upstairs," he sighed. "I promised Randulf I'd eat with him and Aela. Want to join us?"

"Aye, I would like that," Thorolf nodded as he slowly got up to follow.

Einarr was pleased to see that his father was already starting to look a lot healthier and stronger than he had when they found him in the prison, but he still had a long way to go till he was back to full strength.

"That Aela," Thorolf said as they walked. "You two seem . . . close."

Einarr gave his father a strange look. "Aye, we are. What of it?"

"She's very pretty, albeit a bit intimidating when you first meet her. But you two seem like a good match."

Einarr froze in his tracks and stared at his father, his eyes wide. "Wait, you think Aela and I are involved?"

"Are you not? From what I've noticed in the short time I've been here, you two are always together."

"Gods, Da, nay, Aela and I aren't involved in that way. We're close, but she's like an older sister to me. Her and Randulf's father were my closest friends when Lassarina and I returned to Skyrim."

"Ah, forgive me, I misunderstood," Thorolf apologized. "Her boy is quite energetic, though."

"Show me a three-year-old who _isn't._"

"Aela and him kept me company while you were gone. You were all that boy could talk about."

Einarr smiled and nodded. "Well, Randulf's father died before Aela had even started to show, so I took it upon myself to help her. I know what it's like raising a child all by yourself. I'm fine with acting as a surrogate father for Randulf."

Thorolf smiled back at him and clapped his shoulder. "That's a good thing you're doing son. I'm glad you grew up to be an honorable man."

Randulf had eaten a good amount of the food on his plate by the time Einarr joined him and Aela. The young boy animatedly filled him in on everything he had done while he had been away, and Einarr listened to each rushed, babbled word as it spilled out of Randulf's lips in an uninterrupted rant. It was only when he finished his food and Aela allowed him a honeyed-nut treat that Randulf fell quiet and finally let him talk to Aela.

"I'll need to speak to you and the rest of the Circle soon," he informed Aela, taking a sip of his mead.

Aela nodded. "I can have someone get Farkas and Vilkas and ask them to join us here later on."

"The Circle?" Thorolf echoed.

"Aye, they're a branch of the Companions composed of our more senior members," Einarr explained. "Aela is part of it, as is Farkas, Vilkas, and Athis."

Erendriel was walking by with Ria at his side, and Aela waved him over. Einarr regarded them both with a smile and couldn't help but notice the two were holding hands. Kiraya had a big part in getting them together, constantly forcing situations where the shy Bosmer and the pretty Imperial had to be alone together. He recalled that Erendriel had gone to Riften alone a few weeks back and wondered if he'd purchased an Amulet of Mara.

"Erendriel, could you and Ria go to Farkas and Vilkas's homes and tell them the Circle is meeting?" Aela asked the couple.

"Tell them we're meeting in the Underforge in a quarter hour," Einarr added, deciding right then to just get what needed to be done out of the way.

The two of them nodded, and Einarr finished up his food quickly while Aela went and got Athis from his room. The entire time he had been on the road back, he had been weighing the decision and had come to the conclusion that it was the best thing to do right now. So a quarter hour later, he was standing in the Underforge with the Circle and his father as well. Everyone seemed extremely uncomfortable and appeared to be avoiding looking in Vilkas's general direction, not that Einarr blamed any of them.

His brother-in-law looked awful. His hair was ragged and tangled, and his normally clean shaven face was covered in a shadowy beard. But the thing that really disturbed Einarr was the look in Vilkas's eyes. His blue-gray eyes were dark and filled with so many negative emotions that it was hard to look at him without expressing the pity and anger Einarr felt for him at that moment. He was honestly glad Lassarina wasn't around to see him like this, because it might very well completely end their relationship.

"Why did you call us here?" Vilkas asked gruffly, his voice hoarse and raspy.

"Lassarina has allied herself with Ulfric," Einarr began, glancing at Vilkas only briefly to see him flinch at the mention of her name. "But it's been decided that the fact that she's still alive and among the Stormcloak ranks should be kept a secret for now for the safety of the twins."

Vilkas scoffed. "So Ulfric actually gives a shit about my children, then? Odd, since he didn't seem to care about retaliating against the Thalmor when I wrote to him and told him that they were responsible for his _only _sister's death."

"Vilkas," Farkas murmured a warning.

Einarr ignored Vilkas's bitter attitude and continued. "Because Lassarina isn't well suited for fighting on the front lines, she's been tasked with secretly infiltrating Thalmor bases with a team of spies she's recruiting directly from the Thieves Guild. Until this war over, she's going to stay in hiding so no one catches wind of her actions, and so the Thalmor can't pinpoint her location.

"But that leaves the Stormcloaks with the problem that their ranks aren't as numerous as they'd prefer them to be. The size of their army at the moment isn't large enough to evict the Thalmor from Skyrim. That being said, Ulfric came up with the idea of using a figurehead that everyone respects to gain more support for his army."

Aela's eyes flashed and Einarr knew that she discerned that he was the figurehead. "Einarr, you _can't_ join the Stormcloaks."

"I agree," Athis muttered, looking a bit disgusted by the idea. "The Companions decided to remain neutral in this idiotic war. Kodlak made a wise choice when he decided it."

Farkas was frowning, clearly appearing torn. "You're our Harbinger, Einarr. You pretty much set an example for the rest of the Companions. Why can't Lassarina just be the figurehead?"

"Because the moment the Thalmor discover she's working for the Stormcloak army, the twins will disappear forever," Thorolf told them. "Assuming that Lassarina's children are still in Skyrim, the Thalmor won't have any problem moving them somewhere where we wouldn't be able to get to them."

"Which is why _I _have to be the figurehead that Ulfric needs," Einarr concluded. "I realize that my actions will reflect on the Companions and effectively strip them of any neutrality they had before today. But I don't want any of you to feel like you have to choose sides. So until this war is settled and we have Faolan and Lyanna back, I hereby resign as Harbinger of the Companions."

Every one of the Circle gasped and stared at him in shock. When none of them spoke, Einarr decided to continue.

"I want Aela to run things in the meantime, with Athis and Farkas assisting her."

Farkas stepped forward. "Einarr, as much as I would like to help, I can't. Avyanna figured that the moment Lassarina left for Windhelm, she'd be joining the Stormcloaks and this war would really start to escalate. She wants nothing to do with it and wants to take the boys to Solitude until it's all over. I can't exactly abandon my wife and children."

"Like I did?" Vilkas muttered accusingly.

"I didn't say anything like that, Vilkas."

"Nay, but you were thinking it. You all are."

"Aye, because your problems are all we think about," Aela said sarcastically.

Vilkas shot a glare at the Huntress before turning to Einarr. "What about me? Faolan and Lyanna are my children too, but you haven't asked me to do anything."

Deciding he'd had enough of Vilkas's attitude, Einarr returned his glare with equal ferocity and stepped forward until their noses were only inches apart. "You want something to do, Vilkas? How about you get your shit together and start acting like the fucking man you ought to be instead of the drunken lout you've become? I don't want you helping with anything the way you are now. This man you've become," he poked him harshly in the chest, "you don't deserve to help. You don't deserve Faolan and Lyanna. And you don't deserve my sister."

Vilkas's eyes burned and he shoved Einarr back. "You want to say that to me again?"

"I don't like to repeat myself, so hopefully my advice will stick and you'll try to be the man my sister and your kids deserve. If Lassarina were to see you the way you are right now, she'd leave you for good."

"Einarr, stop kicking a man when he's already down," Thorolf intervened, grabbing onto his shoulder.

Einarr turned his head to look at his father. "Da, no offense but this doesn't concern you."

"Nay, maybe not, but I think I out of everyone here, can understand how he's feeling right now. You've been fortunate enough not experience the fear and pain of being separated from your wife and children and not have any idea what's happened to them."

Einarr flinched at the raw emotion in his father's eyes and took a few steps away from Vilkas. He'd stop being Lassarina's intimidating older brother for now, but if Vilkas did something stupid the next time they saw each other, he'd castrate the man himself.

"He is right about one thing, though," Thorolf continued, looking at Vilkas. "Really, man, clean yourself up. Do you really want you wife to see you like this when she _does _come around? And trust me, she will."

Vilkas lowered his gaze and grunted right before turning around and leaving the Underforge. Thorolf smiled sadly and looked at everyone.

"He'll be clean and shaven by morning, mark my words."

Aela chuckled and shook her head. "Einarr, I must say, I like your father."

"He's like the old man," Farkas agreed.

Einarr's brows rose a bit, but when he thought about it, his father _was _a lot like Kodlak. It must be the reason that he respected his predecessor so much when he was still with the Companions.

"Da, I wanted you to come with me to Windhelm when I leave," Einarr told him. "The Thalmor might try looking for you soon if they haven't started already. I don't want you to be taken again."

Thorolf shot him a glare. "What, you think I can't take care of myself? I'm not a helpless old man, boy."

"Aye, I get that, but you've also been trapped in a prison for nearly thirty years and haven't wielded a sword just as long. You can't fight _anyone_ off when you're that rusty."

"Windhelm _would_ be a safe place to hide from the Thalmor," Aela added helpfully. "We'd be more than happy to have you stay here in Jorrvaskr, but I'm sure your son would feel better if you just went with him. Plus, don't you want to make up for lost time?"

Einarr shot a grateful glance at Aela. The Huntress could always understand what he was feeling and thinking and was subtly trying to get Thorolf to go with him. He'd have to talk to Kiraya about coming too, but he wasn't sure if he'd feel entirely too comfortable having his daughter in Windhelm. Everyone in Whiterun was used to her and her appearance, but all of the racist Nords in Ulfric's city would mistreat her.

_Maybe I can have her stay in Riften for a while, _he thought to himself.

Thorolf sighed heavily and crossed his arms over his chest. "Aye, I guess I'll go. But I won't be stay in the jarl's keep!"

Einarr already figured that, and he too had no intention of staying in the Palace of the Kings. He was sure the reason his father didn't want to stay there was because he didn't feel like seeing the place where Freyja had taken another man and birthed his child. His father had said he wasn't angry about Freyja finding another man, but that was a clear lie. He may not be angry at her or Lassarina, but he was definitely angry at Fjrokvar Stormcloak. The deceased jarl should be glad he was safe from Thorolf in Sovngarde.

"We'll stay at the inn, Da, don't worry," Einarr reassured him.

"When are you leaving?" Athis asked.

"Most likely tomorrow. I want to end this war as quickly as possible."

"Avyanna and I will probably take the boys to Solitude a few days after," Farkas sighed. "Aela, do you think you can check in on my brother every now and then?"

Aela curled her lip distastefully. "I'll send Grognak to check on him, but unless he's lying bleeding on the floor or comes to me, I'm not going to waste my breath on him."

Einarr shook his head at how badly Vilkas's attitude had affected the other Companions. The only one that hadn't been fazed by Vilkas's temper and depression was Grognak, and Orsimer who had joined nearly a year ago and became close friend with the man since they shared similar interests.

"I guess that'll have to be good enough," Farkas mumbled.

"Kiraya still at your house?" Einarr asked.

"Aye, she and Rohan are in his room making arrows or something."

Einarr narrowed his eyes. "You let them go into his room alone?"

Farkas nodded. "Why do you ask?"

Aela chuckled and Athis had a smirk on his face while Einarr growled angrily. "Gods damn it, Farkas. You don't leave two kids their age in a room alone!"

Farkas looked confused. "What? You didn't have a problem with it before."

"They aren't ten anymore."

"Oh, gods, is that what you're worrying about? They aren't doing anything like that, Einarr."

Einarr gave him a light shove as he walked past him and muttered, "Shut up, ice-brain."

**oOo**

**(10th of Rain's Hand, 205 4E)**

Lassarina swung her fist and punched Ravyn in the jaw as hard as she could. The Dunmer clutched his face painfully as he went down, and then Lassarina kicked him in the stomach.

"Why the fuck have you been telling people I've come back?" she growled as she kicked him once more.

"I didn't know we were supposed to keep it a secret," he groaned as he tried to get up.

But Lassarina just kicked him down again. "Were you not listening when I said no one should know I'm here?"

"Lass, take it easy," Brynjolf urged her.

"Nay, Brynjolf! Because of him, Maven is asking questions! Last thing I want is someone who regularly attends Elenwen's parties to know where I am!"

"We already cleared it up and said it was just a ploy to get people to start paying for our protection again," Rune said. "I talked to Ingun and she passed the information on to her mother."

Lassarina raked her fingers through her hair and began pacing pack and forth on the platform in the center of the cistern. She was fine with only people she trusted knowing she was alive-Talen-Jei, Keerava, Maramal up in the temple—but the last person she wanted aware of her return was Maven Black-Briar. She had no doubt that the bitch would easily sell her out to the Thalmor if it meant advancing herself in society.

"Now I won't be able to leave the Cistern," she snapped, glaring at Ravyn who was being helped up by Rune. "Not that I would have been able to go out much anyway. Imperial forces are all over The Rift and no one can see me!"

It wasn't a secret to anyone in the Guild that Lassarina was getting stir crazy, and the fact that she hadn't gotten any sleep the past couple of days wasn't helping. Everyone could see she was getting closer and closer to just snapping under the strain of her stress and she was starting to take it out on members of the Guild.

"All right, beautiful, you're letting all this stress get to you," Finverior said, walking over with a wooden pipe in his hands. "Try this, it's a little something to help you relax."

"What in Oblivion is that?" Brynjolf demanded, taking the pipe before Lassarina could grab it. "What are you trying to give her?"

Finverior held up his hands in surrender. "Relax, Brynjolf, it isn't what you think it is. It's just a plant that grows in Valenwood called Dreamleaf. It'll relax her for a couple of hours, and the only side-effect is that she'll be starving afterwards, which, judging by her weight, wouldn't be a bad thing."

Brynjolf eyed the dried up leaves before he sighed and handed it to Lassarina. She brought the pipe to her lips and smacked Finverior's arm, indicating him to light it. The Bosmer rolled his eyes before calling up a fire spell to one finger and holding it over the bowl. She took a few puffs of the foul-tasting smoke and coughed when she released it.

"This tastes like shit," she muttered.

"Yes, but it's better than you killing someone," Finverior told her.

"Well, I'm sorry, but after the past four months, being stuck in a single space isn't exactly appealing to me!"

She turned her head when she heard someone approaching and saw Karliah accompanied by some unfamiliar Bosmer woman in strange robes.

"Who in Oblivion is this?" Lassarina demanded, not liking the idea of some stranger being inside the cistern.

Karliah nodded to the woman beside her. "Lassarina, this is–"

"My name is Galathil," the Bosmer woman interrupted. "I was formerly employed by the Aldmeri Dominion."

At the mention of the Dominion, Lassarina drew her dagger and held it between them. "And what is someone from the Aldmeri Dominion doing here? Did no one tell you they're not welcome here?"

"Perhaps you didn't hear me say _formerly employed, _I understand you hate them. It's a feeling I can sympathize with."

"Just tell me what you want."

Galathil's eyes gleamed as she lowered her hood and smirked at Lassarina. "I want to help you. I may have a solution to your problem."

* * *

><p><em>If any of you know who Galathil is, you've probably already guessed what Lassarina is about to do to herself.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	11. Chapter 11

_All right everyone! Let's get this Civil War started!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: One by Metallica_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Eleven<strong>**

****(11********th******** of Rain's Hand, 205 4E)****

"Why couldn't you have just left me in Whiterun?" Kiraya complained as she hopped off the cart at Windhelm's stables, slinging her pack over her shoulder once she was off. "I hate Windhelm."

Einarr sighed tiredly for the thousandth time in the three days it had taken for them to get to Ulfric's city. "Aye, I know you do, Kiraya. Every living thing between here and Whiterun knows you hate Windhelm."

Kiraya had complained their entire trip and was sulking more than she normally did, constantly glaring at him for bringing her to her least favorite city in Skyrim, but he couldn't really blame her for it. The last time Einarr had brought her to Windhelm, she had been harassed by Galmar's idiot, racist brother Rolff and it pretty much soured her to the idea of ever visiting.

"I could've gone with Rohan to Solitude too," she muttered bitterly. "Instead I get to stay in a city filled with ignorant racists."

"Kiraya, it's only temporary until I can spare the time to take you to Riften," Einarr told her, securing the straps of his greatsword's scabbard across his chest and jumping down to the ground beside her. "I don't want you in Imperial territory until this war is over."

"As if I would let any Thalmor take me like they did Faolan and Lyanna."

"You wouldn't have a choice, little one," Thorolf murmured as he carefully eased himself down to the ground. "You may not be a defenseless toddler like your cousins, but that would only make the Thalmor think it would be fine to hurt you. They don't show mercy or remorse."

Kiraya frowned and grabbed her bow off the carriage floor. "We're not staying at the inn, are we?"

Einarr smirked at how quickly she changed the subject. "Aye, we are. You're aunt isn't here, so I refuse to stay under Ulfric's roof."

His daughter's face fell. "But–"

"I understand you're worried about that man from last time, but I'm not going to let anyone bother you, kitten."

Thorolf huffed and grabbed the handle of the shortsword Einarr had given him. "I'd like to see anyone mess with my granddaughter while I'm around."

Einarr chuckled. "You might need to get some practice in before you start saying things like that, Da." He turned to thank the carriage driver and started leading the way across the bridge. "I need to go to the palace and report to Ulfric first, so if you want, you both can wait for me at the inn."

"Nay, I'll come with you," Kiraya said.

"I don't want to sit inside an inn by myself," his father grumbled. "I'll come too."

Einarr looked at his father for a moment and guessed he just wanted to see how Freyja had been living for a short period of her life. He wouldn't deny him this opportunity, even it was just Thorolf sizing up someone who was no longer alive. So he led the way to the Palace of Kings, not missing that slight scowl on his father's face when he pushed open the large doors and revealed the expansive interior of the keep. His father was indeed jealous that Freyja had found someone else to involve in her life romantically, and it was just killing him inside.

"You and your mother lived here?" he asked softly, his brown eyes dark as they took in everything.

"Aye, but it was less than two years," Einarr replied. "I never really cared for it. I'm not one for lavish things."

"Had the Thalmor never invaded, you would have grown up in a place just like this. Cloud Ruler Temple was my family's home for so many generations. I don't regret getting out when we did, though. If we had stayed, we'd all probably be dead right now."

Einarr nodded sadly and continued walking up the hall to where Jorlief stood beside Ulfric's throne. The steward was pacing as he read through some letters and missives, but looked up when Einarr approached.

"Ulfric is in the war room," Jorlief said before looking back to the papers.

Einarr turned to the war room, his father and Kiraya close behind, and found Ulfric standing over the map of Skyrim. He seemed to be deep in thought, his brows furrowed as he scratched his bearded chin.

"Our sister arrived in Riften without incident," he said without looking up. "She sent over a list with the names of her team."

Einarr picked up the piece of paper Ulfric pushed toward him and scanned the names. "I know most of them. They're the best thieves Skyrim has to offer. They'll get the job done, no problem."

Kiraya snatched the list from his hands. "Finverior and Brynjolf are on this list!"

Ulfric finally looked up from the map and noticed Kiraya. "You brought your daughter with you?"

"Aye, and my father as well," Einarr nodded tersely. "I didn't think it'd be wise to leave them in Whiterun."

The corner of Ulfric's mouth twitched a bit and he looked at Thorolf for the first time. "So you're Thorolf Windblade? I've heard many stories about you before and during the war. You were instrumental in taking down several Thalmor groups outside of Cyrodiil, but you ran off just as the war began."

Thorolf looked at Ulfric with hardened eyes. "My son had been born the day the war started. I wasn't going to risk my family's lives for a war we were horribly unprepared for."

Ulfric nodded and turned to Einarr. "Galmar had to leave on a mission a few days ago. Once he gets back, we'll decide what our next move is."

Einarr was about to reply when he heard Kiraya whisper to Thorolf behind him, "– he does this thing where he pretends he doesn't see me cause he's uncomfortable with how I look."

"Kiraya," Einarr growled over his shoulder.

Her ears flattened at the realization that he had overheard and Einarr looked at Ulfric in time to see his eyes narrow. The jarl had overheard what his daughter had said too but didn't seem to be bothered by it. Einarr had noticed Ulfric's behavior around Kiraya the few times they were ever together and its was painstakingly clear that the man did not care to look at her.

"Forgive my daughter, Ulfric," Einarr apologized.

"Nay, it's fine," Ulfric muttered. "She wouldn't be the first to point out my prejudice."

"Just because the Thalmor are bad doesn't mean you have to hate everyone that _isn't _a Nord," Kiraya muttered.

"Kiraya!" Einarr snapped, turning to face her.

He was shocked to hear Ulfric chuckle a bit. "At least she _speaks_ like a Nord. I can respect that."

They all looked to the corridor that connected the war room to the main hall when they heard the palace doors open with several whoops of joy. Footsteps drew nearer and a slim figure in Stormcloak armor turned into the hall.

"Ulfric, Galmar says you owe him a mead!" the woman said triumphantly, holding up some strange looking helmet in one hand.

"Assa!" Thorolf gasped happily at the sight of the woman.

Assa's gray eyes lit up at the sight of Thorolf and Einarr, and she wasted no time in pulling his father into a hug. "Thorolf, my gods, what are you doing here?"

"Einarr has decided to take up arms with the Stormcloaks. The Thalmor kidnapped Lassarina's children and he thought joining would give him a better advantage at finding them."

"They took her children?" Assa asked, pulling away with a frown on her face. "That's terrible!" She then turned to Einarr and added, "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"What loss?" Kiraya spat. "My cousins aren't dead, they're just missing! We're going to get them back!"

Einarr could tell that Assa hadn't been prepared for Kiraya's appearance. Her gray eyes went wide and she couldn't look away for a moment, too fixated on the girl in front of her. He could see that the staring was irritating Kiraya too, if her lashing tail was any clear indication.

"W-who's this?" Assa asked, clearing her throat quickly.

Einarr didn't answer her, since he was feeling a bit irritable over the woman's reaction to his daughter, so Thorolf replied, "This is my granddaughter, Kiraya."

"Oh . . . I heard that the Dragonborn had a child, but I didn't realize–"

"That she was half-Khajiit?" Kiraya hissed.

Assa shook her head. "Nay, that you were already a young woman. I assumed that you'd still be little."

Kiraya scoffed and looked at her father. "I'm going to wait out in the hall."

"Aye, that's fine," Einarr murmured, glaring at Assa.

"Assa, what were you saying about Galmar?" Ulfric asked.

"Oh, right," Assa murmured, looking a bit ashamed of herself. She once again held up the strange looking helm and said, "We found the Jagged Crown, so I believe you owe Galmar a drink."

Ulfric's sea-green eyes lit up and he let out a delighted laugh. "Damn him–the old bear was right! Here, let me have it."

Einarr watched as Assa handed Ulfric the Jagged Crown, bowing her head respectfully as she stepped back. While the jarl held it up to admire it, Einarr studied it closely. The Jagged Crown was indeed the perfect name for it. He couldn't resist feeling envious as he took in the helm made up completely of dragon bone and teeth, but it looked like it would be extremely uncomfortable to wear.

"Sweet Akatosh, what is that thing made of?" Thorolf asked.

"Made of the bones and teeth of dragons, the Jagged Crown sat upon the heads of countless High Kings and Queens before it was lost to time," Ulfric answered. "Did your group run into any trouble, Assa?"

"The Imperials were there before us," she reported. "Hans was badly wounded, but other than that we received no casualties. It was nothing we couldn't handle."

"That's the spirit. I'll get all the details from Galmar when he gets back. Where is he?"

"He went home to his family and sent the rest of us to the barracks to get some sleep. But not before he asked me to bring you the crown."

Ulfric nodded and set down the crown. "Get some rest, then. Report back tomorrow and we'll find another job for you to do. Same goes for you, Einarr."

"Very well," Einarr murmured, nodding his head to the jarl. "If you should need me for anything, I'll be staying at the inn."

"The inn?" Assa echoed. "All three of you?"

Einarr turned to her. "Aye, what of it?"

"Well, why not stay at my home? It's only me and my daughter, and we have plenty of room. It's more convenient than wasting all your gold at the inn."

Einarr was about to decline the offer, but his father interrupted him. "That's an idea. Kiraya _was _worried about staying at the inn after all."

"My daughter is around her age too, so she'll have someone to keep her company in an unfamiliar city."

"I'm not sure," Einarr grumbled.

"Please, it's the least I can do for you saving me from that Thalmor prison."

Einarr sighed heavily and debated with himself silently. On the one hand it _would _be a lot more convenient to take Assa up on her offer and stay at her house. She and his father were clearly friends after spending gods knew how many months sitting across from each other in the prison. But on the other hand, Kiraya wouldn't be too pleased with the idea, especially after Assa's reaction to her appearance.

"I guess we can try it for a night," Einarr finally decided.

"Oh, good!" Assa smiled. "I'll lead the way if you'd like to leave now."

Einarr nodded and turned to Ulfric one last time. "You know where to find us, Ulfric."

But Ulfric was already looking over his war map again and waved his hand absently to them, silently dismissing them from his presence. Einarr rolled his eyes and followed Assa and his father out of the war room, finding Kiraya sitting at the long table, spinning a septim.

"Kiraya, we're leaving," Einarr called out to her.

His daughter snatched up the septim and tucked it into her pocket. "Off to the inn, then?"

"Actually, Assa has graciously offered her home to us, so we'll be staying with her."

He saw her whole body stiffen and her feline eyes narrow angrily as she turned to look at Assa. "Are you serious?"

He walked over and whispered to her, "It's only for one night, just to try it out. As soon as I can, I'll take you to Riften and ignore the fact that your aunt's underlings are teaching you how to rob people blind."

"If it makes you feel better, Aunt Rina says I have no hope of being a pick pocket. Apparently I have clumsy hands."

Einarr chuckled and wrapped an arm around her shoulders as they followed Assa out of the palace and through the streets of Windhelm. As they walked, he couldn't help but notice that Kiraya had grown a few more inches and her head was level with his shoulder. Her body was also developing in ways he chose to ignore since it was a clear indication that his daughter wasn't a little girl anymore.

_I'm going to have to be more vigilant when it comes to her and Rohan spending time together, _he thought to himself.

The fourteen-year-old was already taller than his sister Avyanna and had lost enough baby fat for him to turn more than a few heads. The fact that Kiraya was hopelessly enamored of him didn't make Einarr feel any better, either.

"Well, this is my house," Assa announced as they arrived at a very large residence.

Even Kiraya was impressed by it. "Are you rich or something?"

Assa chuckled. "Oh, nay, far from it. I could only really afford it because no one except me was crazy enough to buy it after what happened here."

"What happened?" Thorolf asked.

"There was some man going by the name The Butcher a few years back. He would kill women and takes pieces of their bodies so he could remake his dead sister. He would bring them here to assemble them."

"I heard about that," Einarr suddenly spoke. "I think everyone in Skyrim heard about it, actually. It was a terrible thing."

"My friend Susanna was one of his victims and apparently, I would have been next on the list. He tried cornering me in the middle of the night, but I outmatched him and he died by my hand. As a reward for serving his city, Jarl Ulfric made me a thane and offered me this house at a price I couldn't pass."

With a relieved sigh, she walked up to the door and unlocked it, holding it open for them. Thorolf rushed in to get out of the cold while Einarr and Kiraya followed more slowly. The inside of the house looked even bigger than the outside suggested. A warm fire was lit in the hearth nearby, and it filled the entire room in its warm light.

"Your house is just beautiful," Thorolf commented, taking a few steps inside and turning slowly so he could look at everything.

"Thank you, Thorolf," Assa said as she closed and locked the door.

"So it's just you and your daughter?" Einarr asked. "No husband?"

A frown tugged at the corner of her lips. "Nay . . . my husband passed away a few years ago. He died a soldier, though."

Einarr saw his father placed a hand on Assa's shoulder and squeeze it gently. "I'm sure he's feasting in Sovngarde right now."

Einarr looked over to the stairs when he heard the pounding of feet against wood. A young girl with red-brown hair was coming down the steps, a small black-and-white cat in her arms. She looked right at Assa and was extremely relieved to see her.

"Mama, you're home!" she shouted, running over to Assa, who promptly hugged her. "I was worried about you."

"I know, sweetling," Assa murmured, pushing the hair away from her face and kissing her forehead. "Were you good while I was away?"

"Aye, Calder came and checked up on me every day." She then looked at Einarr, Thorolf and Kiraya. "Who are they?"

"Sofie, Thorolf was in the same prison as me and his son Einarr was the one who rescued us. Einarr is going to be staying with us while he's in Windhelm as a thank you for helping me."

Sofie regarded Einarr and his father for a moment, but she kept looking at Kiraya. "Wait, I know you! You're the girl with the pet wolf!"

Kiraya's eyes widened in recognition and she nodded. "Oh, yeah, that's why you looked familiar. I thought I've seen you before."

"You two know each other?" Einarr asked his daughter.

"Aye, three years ago when we found out Ulfric got Lassarina. I kind of collided into her when I was running away from those mean men at the inn." She looked at Sofie. "It's good to see you again."

"Sofie, sweetie, why don't you show Kiraya to your room?" Assa suggested. "She's going to be staying with you if that's all right."

"Aye, mama, that's fine," Sofie nodded. "Kiraya, follow me."

The two girls disappeared into a room in the back and Einarr's father smiled at Assa. "Such a sweet child. You and your husband must have been very young when you had her."

Einarr wanted to stop his father right then and explain to him that Sofie wasn't Assa's true-born daughter. Despite the fact that the girl looked nothing like the woman, she didn't have any trace of Assa's scent. Ever since he became a werewolf, Einarr learned that children took on a unique mixture of their parents scents. But if he said anything then he'd arouse suspicion over his werewolf side.

"Nay, Thorolf, Sofie's adopted," Assa explained. "I didn't know her mother since she died a long time ago, but her father served with my husband. He died in the line of duty and I adopted her last year when I found out she was living on the streets."

"Oh," Thorolf murmured, looking embarrassed. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine, you didn't know. Here, follow me and I'll show you the room where you and Einarr will be staying."

They followed her upstairs to the second floor and found several weapon plaques decorating the walls as well as a handful of display cases and mannequins sporting armor. He walked over to the one wearing some old, worn, steel armor and inspected it with a trained eye.

"This armor has seen better days," he commented. "But it must have been a fine set when it was first made."

"It was the armor my husband wore before he enlisted with the Stormcloaks," Assa explained, walking over and gently touching the cold steel. "Ingolf lived life to the fullest as an adventurer, exploring ruins and collecting weapons and armor he could proudly display. Everything in here are things he and I found and kept."

"What about this armor set over here?" Einarr's father called out, making them both turn to look at it. "It's incomplete."

Einarr's eyes swept across the partial set of ebony armor, and he let out a hum of appreciation. While it was missing the helmet, boots and shield, what was there was still impressive to look at.

"Ingolf and I were putting that together before the war started," Assa explained. "It's a shame we were never able to complete it."

"The collection you currently have is still very impressive," Einarr told her. "I'm a blacksmith myself, and I can tell you that you're sitting on a gold mine with all these weapon and armor sets."

"I'd never sell it, though. It means far too much to me to even consider parting with it." With a heavy sigh she nodded her head to a nearby door. "You both can stay in that room. It's not that big, but there are two single beds in there."

"Thank you for offering your home to us," Thorolf said.

"It's the least I could do. I mean, what's the point of having such a big house if you don't make room for guests?" She pointed at the door across from their room. "That's my room right there, by the way. If you need anything and can't find me anywhere else around the house, I'm usually in there. I'll probably have dinner cooked by sunset."

"Good to know," Einarr murmured as he stepped into the guest room.

The single bed he was meant to sleep in would take some getting used to, especially when he'd been sleeping in a large bed all by himself for the past five years, but he was grateful that it at least looked a lot more comfortable than the beds in the inns. As he dropped his pack on one of the beds, he sat down and wondered how he was going to survive living in Windhelm for months.

**oOo**

Like he did every night, Einarr woke up sometime past midnight due to the combination of hunger and restlessness that came with having beastblood. Scratching the coarse hair on his chest, he made his way downstairs to the kitchen of Assa's home in search of water. The fire in the kitchen was still blazing, but he saw that it was starting to weaken, so he instinctively tossed a dry log onto it. He warmed his hands for a couple of moments before he turned and started searching for the water.

"How is anyone supposed to find anything in here?" he muttered to himself, wishing he was in Jorrvaskr's smaller, more familiar kitchen. He spotted a bottle of mead on the table and picked it up. "Not water, but still good."

He yanked out the cork with his teeth and sat down at the table, taking several chugs to quench his thirst. He was contemplating rummaging around for something to eat when he heard footsteps behind him and caught Assa's scent. Einarr looked over his shoulder just as she was walking in. She looked like she was half-asleep, wearing an unfastened robe that allowed him a brief glance at her nightclothes, which was just a large shirt hanging down to her thighs and nothing else. She walked all the way to the cupboard without even glancing at him and he watched her pull out a sweetroll and take an enormous bite out of hit, humming happily as she chewed on it.

Deciding he should make himself known, Einarr cleared his throat and asked, "Wake up for a midnight snack?"

Assa let out a squeak of surprise and her hand immediately drew her robe around her body while holding onto the sweetroll with her mouth. Einarr couldn't resist the small chuckle that escaped him in that moment, and he caught her glaring out of the corner of her eye.

"Sorry if I startled you," he said, holding up the bottle of mead. "And sorry about taking some mead, but I couldn't find that pitcher of water."

She grabbed the sweetroll from her mouth, chewing on another bite of it. "It's right in front of you."

He looked at the table in front of him and winced when he saw the pitcher. "Ah, guess I wasn't looking hard enough then."

"So do you always wake up in the middle of the night for a drink of mead?" she asked, walking over and sitting across from him.

"Every single night, but to be fair, it's not always mead. Sometimes I do drink water." He took another sip and gestured to her sweetroll. "Do you always wake up in the middle of the night to eat sweets?"

She answered him by taking another bite of the sweetroll. "Every night."

They sat in silence for a few moments, finishing off the last bit of their nighttime treats. It was an awkward silence, since Einarr was still a bit irritated with her over how she reacted to Kiraya, but he felt obligated to be polite to her since she had allowed him and his family to stay in her home.

"Einarr," Assa suddenly spoke. "Look, I want to apologize about how I stared at your daughter today."

He looked at her, completely surprised and thrown off, but shrugged a shoulder. "It's not me you have to apologize to."

"Aye, I know, I was just surprised. I have nothing against the Khajiit; I've just never seen a girl quite like her before."

"Look, if it's all right with you, I'd rather not hear your excuses," he growled. "I've heard them all before, but it still doesn't change anything. My daughter's going to have a tough enough life without thinking she doesn't belong anywhere."

Assa opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by someone pounding on the front door. She arched a brow in confusion and looked back and forth between him and the door.

"You should probably get that," Einarr told her, rising from the table with every intention of going back to bed.

He heard Assa sigh heavily, but she too got up from her seat and walked to the front door, opening it and letting in a rush of freezing air.

"My thane, you're wanted at the palace," said a voice.

Einarr snuck a peek of the door before he started up the stairs and saw an unfamiliar city guard standing at the doorway. Shrugging, he turned to the stairs and only took a couple of steps up when he was called back by the guard.

"Dragonborn, Jarl Ulfric asked for you as well."

Einarr turned and glared at the man. "What for?"

"I was only told to send the message," the guard explained.

Assa nodded. "Thank you. Inform the jarl we'll be there in a quarter hour."

When she closed the door, Einarr let out a displeased growl and headed back up the stairs to get dressed. He did so as quietly as possible so he wouldn't wake his father, who was snoring rather loudly in his bed, and headed back downstairs where Assa was waiting for him, wearing a simple dress with a cloak hanging off her shoulders.

"Come on, we shouldn't keep the esteemed jarl waiting," Einarr told her bitterly.

As they headed out of the house and walked side by side, Assa looked at him and asked, "You don't like Ulfric, do you?"

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye. "What gave it away?"

"Hmm, I'm not sure, maybe it's just the way you talk about him."

He chuckled and shook his head. "We have history; let's just leave it at that."

When they walked into the palace, it was just in time to see several guards carrying away three bodies, wrapped up in bloodstained blankets. Assa covered her mouth with both hands in shock while Einarr rushed over to where Ulfric, Galmar and Yrsarald were standing by the throne.

"What in Oblivion happened?" he asked them. "Who died?"

Yrsarald was the one who answered. "The former jarl of Riften, Laila Law-Giver, and both her sons were murdered in their sleep."

"We caught the assassin who did it," Galmar added. "Some Imperial bitch who refuses to talk. Not that it matters. She'll be meeting the headsman in the morning."

"Wait, an Imperial woman?" Einarr repeated. "Is she blonde and a bit on the curvaceous side?"

"Aye," Yrsarald nodded. "Why, do you know her?"

Einarr sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Unfortunately, I do. I think I could get her to talk."

Ulfric's eyes lit up and he waved over a guard. "Bring the assassin."

The guard ran off with a nod and Assa walked on over with a grim expression. "How could an assassin get in here so easily?"

"Believe it or not, it's not that difficult," Einarr told her. "After all, my sister was able to sneak in and steal anything she could get her hands on without any problems."

"We're going to have to increase the number of guards," Galmar mused. "If they were able to get to Laila and her sons this easily, what's to stop an assassin from getting to you, Ulfric? Or Urska?"

"Da, you worry too much," said a new voice.

Einarr glanced up and saw Galmar's oldest daughter, Urska, walking out of the war room looking exhausted. She wasn't showing any signs of being pregnant, but he could smell the warm scent that enveloped her the same way it enveloped Lassarina and Aela when they were pregnant with their children.

"Urska, what are you doing down here?" Galmar demanded.

"I wanted to see what was going on," she answered. She spotted Einarr and smiled at him. "Dragonborn, it's good to see you again. I'm glad to hear you've joined the ranks of the Stormcloaks."

"Urska, love, I don't think you should be down here right now," Ulfric told her. "The guards are bringing the assassin and I'd rather you be safe in our room."

"Stop treating me like I'm fragile, like anything will happen to me with so many people here."

Assa snorted. "Aye, she didn't forget how to defend herself just because you impregnanted her, Ulfric."

Ulfric's eyes flashed and he glared at Assa. "We're not advertising that, Assa. No one outside this group knows about that, and I'd rather we keep it that way."

"Back to what I was saying," Galmar interjected. "How do we stop this from happening again?"

"You won't have to worry about that," spoke a sultry voice. "I made a promise to a dear friend not to target those she considers family."

Einarr bit back a groan and turned to see his sister's assassin friend Daine approaching between two guards, her hands bound by shackles and her lower lip bruised. Her bright amber eyes immediately went to him, and her lips curled in a suggestive smile. Ulfric dismissed both guards and they all waited until they were gone to speak.

"Well, hello there, Einarr," Daine purred. "What an unexpected and pleasurable surprise to see you here."

He nodded. "Daine."

"And here I thought my last day on Nirn would be disappointing. Care to put a smile on my face before dear Ulfric sends me to the block?"

"For the love of Talos, Daine, you're a mother!"

"Yes, I am, but there's no ring on my finger."

Einarr rolled his eyes. "Enough bullshit. Tell me who sent you."

Her gaze sharpened and she looked away. "Now, why would I tell you the name of my employer?"

"Because I asked you."

Ulfric growled and stepped forward. "What did you mean when you said you promised a friend not to target her family? Who's this friend?"

Daine rolled her eyes. "You only have one family member, ice-brain. Lassarina asked me not to kill anyone in her family. It's the least I could do for her, since we're friends and all."

"So she's not only a thief, but she's friends with assassins," Galmar scoffed. "Fjrokvar must be weeping in Sovngarde right now for having a criminal for a daughter."

"Da, Lassarina is a nice girl," Urska commented. "Just because the two of you butt heads all the time doesn't mean she's a bad person."

"Aye," Daine sighed, taking on a very bad Nord accent. "She's such a sweet girl and a good friend. I wonder how she'd react if she learned one of her dear friends had her head chopped off."

Einarr could already see where she was suggesting and sighed. "Ulfric, she's not going to talk unless you'll let her walk out of here alive."

"She must be touched by Sheogorath if she thinks she's going to get out of this without punishment," Galmar spat.

"Fine, then kill me," Daine sniffed. "You'll never know who sent me. But trust me when I say you'll definitely want to know. This person could be a real problem if left alone."

"Just let her go," Einarr said. "She's a terrible flirt and far too cocky, but if she promised Lassarina that she wouldn't allow any of her assassins to touch you or yours, then you can trust her to uphold that promise."

"If you don't trust me, you can at least trust Einarr. And he _does not _like me one bit. I think it's because I'm too much woman for him."

"Nay it's because the last time you were in Whiterun, you let yourself into my bed!"

Assa and Urska both snickered at their little back and forth, while Yrsarald smiled. Ulfric and Galmar, however, weren't amused and were both glaring at Daine.

"Fine," Ulfric finally said through gritted teeth. "We'll let you walk free. _But _you have to tell us who sent you and why."

Daine smirked and turned to the jarl. "You've got a deal, my jarl. I was hired by Maven Black-Briar to kill Laila and her sons. She heard a rumor that Lassarina was alive, and I guess she was scared that her position as Jarl of The Rift would be compromised. I don't see why, though, since Lassarina _is _in fact dead." She turned her intense gaze to Einarr. "Right?"

Einarr stared at her for a moment, his eyes never wavering, before he finally answered. "She's alive, but it's being kept a secret."

Her eyes lit up with joy, but then narrowed suspiciously. "Would the Thalmor have anything to do with keeping such good news a secret?"

"Aye, they took her children right before we reached Whiterun. Since you deal with the seedy underbelly of Skyrim, if you should hear anything suspicious, let us know."

Daine dipped her head in agreement.

"So Maven Black-Briar ordered Laila's death," Yrsarald sighed. "I heard rumors she dealt with the Dark Brotherhood, but I never thought she'd go so far to secure her place in Riften's seat."

"Then clearly you don't know Maven," Daine laughed. "The crazy bitch will do anything and everything to stay in a high seat of power. The moment she was officially given charge of The Rift, she put a plan in place to make sure she stayed there. Her dealings with the Empire make her an enemy of the Stormcloaks and she knew you'd never agree to let her remain jarl if you had Laila to take back her throne should you win the war. I don't know why a rumor of Lassarina being alive would make her this skittish though."

Einarr furrowed his brow and rubbed his chin. "Aye, that does seem a bit suspicious. Maven deals with the Thieves Guild so much and Lassarina worked closely with her. Why would she be scared over a rumor that she's alive?"

"I'll send a courier to Riften to inform her of Maven's dealings," Ulfric decided. "Since they're in the same city she should be more careful."

"Yes, that's all well and good," Daine muttered, clanking her shackles together. "Now could you please release me? I really should get back to my family."

Ulfric called over the guards and had Daine released. With an exaggerated bow, the Imperial woman left without another word and a wink to Einarr. Once she was gone, Galmar turned to Ulfric.

"So what do we do now, Ulfric?" the old general asked. "We can't exactly allow Maven to go on thinking she can get away with things like this."

"Nay, we can't," Ulfric muttered, pacing in front of his throne.

"Then what's our next move?" Yrsarald inquired.

Einarr watched the jarl nervously pace back and forth for several minutes before he finally looked up and turned to him and Assa.

"You two, get fitted into your armor and be ready to move tomorrow," he told them.

Assa dipped her head. "Aye, my jarl, but may I ask why?"

"You're marching into battle."

"You're sending him into battle already?" Galmar demanded. "He hasn't proven himself yet or taken the oath!"

Ulfric rolled his eyes. "Einarr killed Alduin, Galmar. He's already proven himself to everyone in Skyrim. He can always take the oath before he heads into battle."

"I'm all right with marching into a fight," Einarr said, stepping forward. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't be a Companion. But I _would _like to know where exactly I'm marching to."

"The Rift," Ulfric answered. "The Stormcloaks are taking back Riften from Imperial clutches."

Einarr felt a tight clenching in his chest at the thought of attacking the city he had once called home. But such was the way of war. He was just going to have to send a warning to Lassarina so she and the Guild could avoid the fighting.

_Gods willing, she won't do something stupid, _he thought to himself, thought it was very likely she would.

It _was _Lassarina after all.

* * *

><p><em>I'm taking the war into my own hands and doing it in the order I see fit!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	12. Chapter 12

_I think I've written my funniest Finverior scene to date in this chapter. I'm just so happy with it._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Sunday, Blood Sunday by U2, Another Brick in the Wall by Pink Floyd_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Twelve<strong>**

****(20********th******** of Rain's Hand, 205 4E)****

"Gods damn it, woman, are you trying to kill me?" Einarr snapped at Assa, flinching in pain.

Assa smacked the back of his head and glared at him. "Sit still or this will hurt a lot more!"

Einarr growled angrily and hissed in pain when Assa inserted the suturing needle into his flesh again. He was still pissed off that he had dropped his guard long enough to allow an Imperial to injure him. While he mostly blamed the Imperial for the gash below his ribcage, he also blamed Galmar for forcing him to wear the Stormcloak uniform. Never in his life had he worn light armor because he truly believed it didn't offer enough protection in a fight. This battle proved he was right, since the cuirass practically fell apart when the sword struck his side.

_Maybe I can figure out a way to convert this into something heavier, _he thought to himself as Assa put in another stitch to his wound.

The Stormcloaks had taken Fort Greenwall less than an hour ago, and after taking surrendering Imperials prisoner, they began tending to their wounded. They only lost a few good men, but it was still a disappointing loss for the army. The commander in charge of The Rift, Gonnar Oath-Giver, was making arrangements to have their bodies returned to their families, as well as letters to Ulfric so they would receive financial compensation for the loss. This first battle caused Einarr's bitterness toward the whole civil war to increase.

He let out a heavy sigh and Assa glanced up at him curiously. "What's wrong?"

"It's all just such a waste," he told her. "All these good men and women, killing each other all because of a threat everyone seems to have forgotten. We shouldn't be fighting our brothers and sisters; it's exactly what the Thalmor want."

Assa frowned. "Aye, we know, but we can't fight them alone. Not when they have Valenwood and the Empire. And we can't exactly bow down to the Empire after signing the White-Gold Concordat. We're the sons and daughters of Skyrim, and we will not abandon our freedom."

"But how much will taking back our freedom cost?"

Instead of answering, Assa fell silent, her gray eyes darkened with a troubled look. She finished stitching him up and tied off the thread of sinew before slicing what was left off with the tip of her dagger. She cleaned off all the blood with a wet rag and handed him his cuirass.

"There, that should work for now," she told him.

"I think I've grown too accustomed to having my injuries healed," he grunted, pulling the top of his armor back on. "One of the Companions back at Jorrvaskr knows healing magic, and she's always tending to our wounds."

"That actually sounds very convenient."

"Aye, it is. Why don't the Stormcloaks have any healers?"

She gave him a wry look. "Because a _true _Nord doesn't rely on magic to win their battles."

Einarr chuckled. "Ah, I forgot all about that. That's right, true Nord will bleed and die proudly."

Assa let out a little tinkling laugh and shook her head. "Nay, believe me, I always thought that recruiting healers to the army would be a good idea. I'm sure the Imperials have them."

"They probably do."

During the march into The Rift, Einarr took some time to get to know Assa a bit better and could see why his father enjoyed being around her so much. Despite the fact that she was a soldier, she was really a very sweet woman, always attentive toward other people's problems and selflessly worrying about others before herself. She would tell him stories of all the ruins and caves she explored before the war with her deceased husband and Einarr started to admire her adventurer's spirit. It made him want to drop everything and take a look at some of the places she had been to, as well as explore a few new ones. He was still a little sore over her reaction to Kiraya, but in spite of that he was really starting to like Assa.

"Oi, Assa!" shouted a familiar voice.

Einarr and Assa both looked over their shoulders and saw Ralof approaching them. When they marched from Windhelm, Einarr was delighted to see the soldier from Riverwood would be accompanying them into battle and spent the nights they camped catching up with him, sharing mead and stories. Ralof had expressed his sorrow over the news of Lassarina's death, and while Einarr desperately wanted to tell the man that she was actually alive, he knew he couldn't risk letting the fact spread throughout the troops.

"Ralof, good to see you survived the battle," Assa said as he neared. "Did you receive any injuries? I just finished stitching up Einarr."

"A few cuts and bruises but nothing that needs to be worried over," Ralof reported, taking a seat beside them. "So you were injured, Einarr?"

"Aye, a damned Imperial got lucky," he grunted. "I hope we get a day to rest before storming Riften."

"I actually just heard the captain talking about that. Apparently Maven's ready for us and had some Imperial soldiers hiding out in the city so they could guard it. Oath-Giver has no idea how we're going to get inside."

"Einarr, don't you have friends within Riften?" Assa asked him.

He caught the meaningful look in her eye and nodded stiffly. "Aye, my sister had allies inside the Thieves Guild, but what good are they when we're out here and they're in there? I doubt Maven's letting anyone inside the city right now, even merchants or travelers."

"I guess it's the captain's problem to deal with, then," Ralof sighed, rummaging through his knapsack and pulling out three bottles of mead. "So I say we just rest until we have to attack Riften."

Einarr agreed but didn't grab one of the bottles. Instead, he slowly got up and pressed a hand to his wound.

"Save me one of those. I'm going down to the lake to wash all this blood off."

"What, the mighty Dragonborn can't handle a little blood under his fingernails?" Ralof teased.

"He's got the right idea," Assa murmured, taking a sip of mead. "I used to be blond before the battle. All the blood in my hair has turned me into a redhead."

Ralof laughed and grabbed a strand. "Actually, it's all dried and brown now. Looks nice on you."

Assa rolled her eyes and shoved him. "Sod off, you milk-drinker. Einarr, let me know if there's any relatively private areas I can wash off in when you get back."

"Will do," he nodded, grabbing his pack and heading toward the lake.

When he reached the lakeshore, he stripped down to his skin and inspected the wound on his side as he gently cleaned it and the rest of his body. He couldn't believe how much grime and dried blood he was covered in, but he was pretty sure the majority of it was his. He had just walked out of the water and was drying off with a towel when he heard a low whistle behind him.

"You know, I never realized it before, but you've got a great ass, Einarr," said a voice he never expected to hear.

"Finverior?" he gasped, turning around.

The Bosmer's amber eyes drifted down to below Einarr's waist and he let out a hum of appreciation. "Well would you look at that. You're a big boy, aren't you?"

Glaring, Einarr wrapped the towel around his waist and restrained the overwhelming urge to punch the wood elf across the jaw. "What the fuck are you doing out here? Nay, better question, _why_ are you here?"

"Everyone in Riften is freaking out because of the battle that happened only a few miles up the road. The esteemed Jarl Maven Black-Briar is panicking and doubled the guard in the city to protect against an impending attack." He scratched his chin and arched a brow at him. "Your sister sent me to ask when you're planning to attack."

"I don't know. I'm only a soldier here; I don't have any command over the troops."

"Then tell your superior officer that you're attacking tonight. She's arranging for the gates to be available to you. You and the Stormcloaks will be able to walk in without any problems."

Einarr stared at him for a moment. "And how did she arrange that?"

Finverior smirked and started to walk away. "Don't worry about it. Be at the gates tonight with the rest of the soldiers. I'd better get back before the guards start patrolling the docks."

Einarr wanted to call him back and insist he tell him what Lassarina had done, but he thought better about it. The sun was already starting to set, and if they were going to attack tonight, they needed to get moving soon. So he quickly dried himself off and threw his armor back on before running back to the fort to inform the captain of this new development.

**oOo**

"I thought you said we'd be able to walk in through the front gates!" Captain Gonnar spat, glaring right at Einarr. "There's two guards standing there."

Einarr frowned and stared at the two guards curiously. Finverior had told him that the city gates would be accessible, so why were there guards stationed there? Had their opportunity to attack passed them by already?

"Einarr, what's going on?" Assa whispered to him.

"I don't know," he growled. "I was told we'd be able to walk right through the gates."

"Wait, what's that?" Ralof spoke, pointing up at the wall. "I thought I saw something move on top of the wall."

Einarr glanced up to the strong wall surrounding Riften, and for a few moments he saw nothing. But then he caught a flash of moonlight bouncing off a polished blade and saw the shadows moving.

_Nay, that's not a shadow, _he thought to himself, recognizing the familiar armor his sister wore.

She didn't move from where she stood on the wall and it was almost impossible to see her, but Einarr knew that she was looking at him and the rest of the soldiers hiding in the trees. Then her hands lit up in a faint golden light and he saw her nod her head to the gates.

"Who in Oblivion is that?" Gonnar asked.

"Those are our eyes on the inside," Einarr replied with a grin. "It's safe to go ahead."

"What about those guards?"

Einarr looked at the guards standing in front of the gates and noticed something odd about them. The entire time that he and the rest of the soldiers had been standing in the trees, they hadn't moved once. They were in the _exact _same position without moving a single muscle. Without thinking, Einarr stepped out from the shadows of the trees and walked right up the road to the gates. When he reached them, he looked up to his sister, shocked at what she had arranged.

The guards hadn't moved because they were no longer alive. They both had daggers buried deep in their gullets and were being held up by knives that were pinning their cuirasses to the wall they were propped against. He never thought his sister would be capable of something like this, but looking up at her, he saw no remorse in her eyes. Her whole face was covered by the shadow of her hood as well as her mask, but he could tell Lassarina felt no regret over this.

"Einarr, is it clear?" Assa voice cut through the silence of the night.

He didn't take his eyes off his sister but answered, "Aye, it's clear."

The Stormcloaks charged out of from the shelter of the trees and joined him at the gates. He glanced over his shoulder when Assa and Ralof appeared at his side to nod at them, and when he looked back to his sister, she was gone.

"Who was that?" Ralof asked him.

"A friend," Einarr answered, moving along when the gates were thrown open.

The rest of the soldiers inside of Riften were completely unprepared for their attack, and chaos erupted. The Stormcloaks hacked away and cut down any enemy that stood in the way, following Captain Gonnar as he shouted at them to make their way to Mistveil Keep. Einarr kept taking on too many opponents at once, which normally wouldn't be a problem for him, but the wound on his side was slowing him down and restricting his movement. He couldn't swing as widely as he was accustomed to without risking popping his stitches. He had just brought down the soldier in front of him and paused to catch his breath when he heard Assa shout.

"Einarr, behind you!"

He turned his head to see a soldier charging at him, his sword raised over his head and ready to come down to strike. Einarr didn't have enough time to react, but before his enemy had the chance to strike him, an arrow hissed through the air and pierced his skull. The man died instantly and fell to the ground. Looking up in the direction he saw the arrow come from, Einarr noticed several dark figures standing on the roofs of the houses around them, all of them wielding bows.

_She's brought the Thieves Guild to this fight, _he realized.

One of the thieves jumped down to the ground beside him and walked over. He realized it was his sister only because she wore her Nightingale armor.

"You're not usually that sloppy in battle," she said to him. "I've been watching you this whole time. Why are you so slow?"

"I got hurt taking Fort Greenwall," he explained, pressing his hand into his still-sore wound. "We don't have a healer, so I had to get stitched up."

"Here, let me take care of that then."

Lassarina's hands lit up in a warm golden light, and she placed one palm gently over his wound. Einarr instantly felt the relief that came with the healing magic and could feel the wound closing up. He let out a sigh and placed a hand on his sister's shoulder, looking into her eyes. He noticed they looked different, but he figured it had to be the darkness making them look odd.

"Thank you; that feels much better," he told her.

"You're not going to find a lot of guards at the keep," she informed him. "Maven's not the only one who can pay people off."

"That's good to know."

"Einarr, are you all right?" Assa asked, running over.

"Aye, I'm fine," he nodded. "My sister healed me."

Assa smiled at Lassarina. "It's good to see you again."

"We'll have time to exchange pleasantries later," Lassarina told her sharply. "You and the rest of the Stormcloaks have a city to take, and my thieves and I have to make sure no innocent people get caught in the battle."

Without another word she turned away and ran over to a house, climbing the beams with ease as she made her way up to the balcony. He watched her for a moment but then turned to Assa when she touched his arm.

"Are you all right to keep fighting?" she asked him.

"Aye, I'm not an old man yet," he chuckled, lifting up his sword and nodding to the marketplace, which was swarming with battling soldiers.

He and Assa ran side by side into the fray, watching each other's backs as they fought their foes. Ralof joined up with them at some point, and the three of them were easily decimating the enemy forces. Their minds synchronized and each of their moves landed with expert precision. Ralof would stun his opponent with his shield before he brought down his battleaxe, and Assa spun around with her twin swords, each move so graceful she appeared to be dancing.

"Assa, what's your count at?" Ralof asked during the fight. "I've got five so far!"

"Ha! Only five?" she teased, striking down another Imperial. "I've got six."

Einarr rolled his eyes at them, a bit disgusted that they were counting how many kills they had. He was just pushing a soldier off the end of his blade when he heard Assa let out a cry of pain. He whirled around to look at her and saw she had her hand pressed to her face, blood seeping out between the fingers of her fur gloves. He was reaching out to her when he heard the familiar hiss of an arrow right before it pierced her shoulder. She screamed in pain and fell to her knees, dropping her weapons and clutching the injury.

"Ralof, cover Assa!" Einarr shouted, his eyes scanning for the archer.

He spotted the bowman standing on top of the roof of the orphanage, already nocking another arrow aimed at Ralof. Einarr was about to call out a warning when a bulky black figure climbed onto the roof behind the soldier and grabbed his arms, forcing the arrow in another direction as it was released. He watched them struggle and fight against each other for a few moments before the thief finally got the upper hand and stabbed his foe in the chest. The body rolled off the roof and the thief pulled off his hood, revealing his red hair. He waved his hand to Einarr, and he shook his head in return.

"Brynjolf," he muttered to himself as he turned to check on Assa.

"It's a through-and-through," Ralof told Einarr. "She got lucky, but we should get her somewhere safe."

Einarr nodded. "Aye, I agree. Here, help me support her."

The two of them helped Assa to her feet and supported her between their bodies as they moved through the dying battle and over to the blacksmith's shop. A thief was already jumping off the roof as they reached it and held out their hands to take her. This male thief wore the traditional Guild leathers, and had the look of an Imperial about him. It took a moment for Einarr to remember his name.

"Rune," he said as it came to him.

"We'll treat her here," Rune nodded to Einarr. "Finverior is already on his way."

"Dragonborn!" Gonnar shouted. "We're storming the keep!"

Einarr turned to look at the captain and saw him leading a group over to Mistveil Keep. Grabbing Ralof's shoulder, he started pulling him over to the captain so they could join them. They cut down any soldier who tried to get in their way and practically kicked down the doors when they stepped inside the jarl's home. It was nice and warm inside, and sitting in her throne, Maven Black-Briar was glowering at them. She had no guards by her side except for two Nord men. One of them was nothing but muscle, a menacing look on his face as he stood between Maven and the Stormcloaks. The other was scrawny and looked absolutely petrified.

"It's over, Maven," Gonnar announced as he walked forward. "The Rift is Ulfric's once more, and you're under arrest for the murder of Laila Law-Giver and her sons, Harrald and Saerlund."

"It's not over!" Maven spat, slamming her fist down on the armrest of her throne. "Maul! Kill them all, I don't care if you have to sacrifice yourself to do it!"

Einarr turned his gaze to Maul and saw the man looked a bit conflicted. He was reaching for his blade and Einarr was getting ready to meet the man in a fight, when they were interrupted by someone walking into the keep.

"Maul, we gave you a deal; you do nothing and you live," Lassarina said as she walked past Einarr.

"Who in Oblivion are you?" Maven shrieked.

"That doesn't matter now. It's over, Maven. Just go quietly."

"Maul, why are you just standing there? Do something!"

Maul turned to Maven and shook his head. "Sorry, Maven, I enjoyed working for you, but I'm not going to die for you."

Einarr watched Maul walk over to his sister, and they shook hands when he reached her.

"Welcome back to the Guild, Maul," Lassarina told him.

"You traitor!" Maven shouted. "I'll have your head for this!"

"You won't be killing anyone where you're going, Black-Briar," Gonnar said as he walked right up to her and slapped some shackles on her wrist. "You are hereby stripped of your position as Jarl of The Rift."

Maven sneered at Gonnar. "And who will run The Rift in my absence? You? Ha! I'm the only one capable of running this hold!"

"Jarl Ulfric sent a courier saying that The Rift will be temporarily run by one Eisa Shadow-Song."

Einarr's eyes widened. "_Eisa_ Shadow_-_Song?"

"Who in Oblivion is that?" Maven demanded.

"That would be me," Lassarina said stepping forward and finally removing her hood and mask.

Einarr gasped when he saw her, mainly because the woman he was looking at wasn't his sister. She spoke like her and smelled like her, but she looked _nothing _like her. Gone was the dark auburn hair, replaced with locks the color of wheat, and her pale skin was now tanned a sun-kissed gold. The pale-blue eyes that proved they were siblings were gone. One eye was now sea-green and the other was milky-white, a long, jagged scar slashing across the lid and continuing down her cheek to her jawline. The woman in front of him was a complete stranger.

"You can take Maven with you," Lassarina, or rather Eisa, told Gonnar. "But I want her husband and daughter to remain here as insurance. I don't want her son Sibbi anywhere near here. He's a menace."

"My husband won't just agree to be your prisoner!" Maven spat. "Tell her, Hemming!"

The scrawny Nord that had been standing beside Maven ducked his head and, after a moment's hesitation, walked over to Lassarina.

"I never said they'd be prisoners, Maven," Lassarina continued. "Hemming is more of a business partner and will be helping me keep the hold in order. I am a very busy person after all."

Maven said every nasty word she knew as Gonnar and his soldiers dragged her out of the keep. Einarr should have followed them, but he was still in shock over his sister. He was desperate to know what exactly she had done to herself, but he had to wait for her to finish speaking with Hemming and Maul.

"Look, I don't know anything about this jarl business," he overheard her saying to Hemming. "I don't even want to hear anyone calling me 'Jarl,' so I'm giving you all the responsibilities, Hemming. In exchange, you'll get all rights to Black-Briar Meadery and will be a friend to the Guild from here on out. Just don't cross me."

"Of course, Eisa," Hemming nodded fervently. "I wouldn't dream of it."

"Good, now make arrangements to have that son of yours moved out of his lavish prison cell and over to The Pale. Daine's already prepared for his arrival."

Hemming bowed and left the hall, moving toward the living quarters. Lassarina dismissed Maul as well, and only when the main hall was clear did she turn to him. He could see that she looked extremely nervous and tense, as if she were waiting for him to lecture her.

"Lassarina . . . what on Nirn did you do to yourself?" he asked her.

"It's not permanent, if that's what you're worried about," she explained. "It's just some very complex magic at work to make me look different and give me the freedom to move around without worrying if a Thalmor is following me."

"A spell? So you can have it undone at any time?"

"Aye."

"Good, because you look more like Ulfric's sister now than mine."

Lassarina let out a little snort and wrinkled her nose. "Aww, Einarr are you jealous?"

He rolled his eyes and shoved her a bit. "So what's with the name? Eisa Shadow-Song?"

She shrugged a shoulder. "Eisa has been my alias for years now when it comes to Thieves Guild business, and I drew inspiration from mother's last name for a fake one."

"And you're all right with being in charge of an entire hold?"

"Wouldn't be much of a change. I pretty much ran The Rift _before _I was given power officially. Who do you think puts gold in the guards' pockets?"

Einarr chuckled and sobered after a moment. "Have you gotten any leads yet?"

His sister's face fell and she looked down to the floor. "Nay, nothing yet. What about you?"

"I had to move out the minute I got to Windhelm. I spent a night there, and then I was marching here the next day. But I left Aela in charge of the Companions until the war is over."

She looked up at him. "Aela? Why not Vilkas?"

"I wouldn't trust Vilkas with the account books the way he is now. The man is a complete mess."

He saw her eye darken and decided to change the subject.

"So . . . is that eye actually blind right now?"

"Nay, I can see just fine out of it. It's all just a ruse, big brother." She took a deep breath and forced a smile. "So you think you'll stay a few days? It'd be nice to spend some time with you."

He smiled sadly at her and wrapped an arm around her as they started to walk out of the keep. "I'll see what I can do."

oOo

Einarr hadn't been able to stay like Lassarina had hoped, since the Stormcloak captain asked him to head back to Windhelm with Assa and Ralof to deliver news of their victory. It was probably for the best anyway, since she was up to her ears in letters and books, searching for any intel on the Thalmor that Maven could have been keeping. It was no secret that Maven Black-Briar had dealings with both the Thalmor and the Empire, and Lassarina was hoping that her relations with them would result in any clues to Faolan and Lyanna.

She was just finishing up reading through another book of accounts and tossed it aside with a heavy sigh. There was absolutely nothing of use in any of them. It had been a week since The Rift was taken back by the Stormcloak army and she'd been searching through the books every single day but had nothing to show for it. Even with Hemming, Karliah and Amelia helping her, they were coming up short.

"Hemming, are you sure this is everything Maven had?" Lassarina asked the man.

Hemming scratched his beard as he thought. "Well, there might be some more things in the manor and in the family cabin. I can have some men go and retrieve them."

"Aye, please see to it."

"Are you crazy, woman?" Amelia demanded from where she sat on the floor surrounded by stacks of books and papers. "We haven't even gone through everything in here and you're asking for more?"

"We can't leave anything unchecked, Amelia," Karliah told her simply, not even looking up from the letters in her hands. "Anything that could help us find Faolan and Lyanna is a blessing at this point."

"Why can't we have the men help us with this too?"

"Because men have short attention spans," Lassarina joked, causing both Amelia and Karliah to chuckle. "Plus you and Brynjolf are already disgustingly sweet when you're in the cistern. If he was here, neither of you would get any work done."

The petite Breton rolled her eyes and went back to her stack of papers. Lassarina smirked a bit and reached for another accounts book. She was about halfway through it when someone knocked on the door.

"Come in," she called out.

The door opened and Vex strolled in with her three-month-old son Lucian in her arms. The boy clearly took after his Nord father Garthar in appearance, but he had his mother's blonde hair and eyes. Lassarina could already tell the boy was going to be a handful when he was older, but for now he was just a sweet little baby who made her ache for her own children.

"I like your new place," Vex told Lassarina. "Much nicer than the Guild bunkhouse."

"Enjoy it while we have it," Lassarina said. "Once this war is over, it's going to whoever Ulfric decides to appoint jarl."

"Well, I came to help with whatever I can. I'm sick of staying at home, and I can always bring Lucian with me to read through documents."

Amelia stood up and held out her arms. "Here give him to me; I need a break." When Vex handed her son over, the Breton started cooing to the small boy, waggling her finger in front of him. "Oh, hello there, little lad. Why don't we take a walk around the keep?"

As she was walking out, Amelia nearly ran into Sapphire.

"Watch it, I'm holding a baby!" she snapped to the tall Nord woman.

Sapphire backed up against the wall, her hand up in surrender as she let Amelia walk by. "Sorry, sheesh."

"Sapphire, you come to help too?" Lassarina asked her.

She shook her head. "Actually, there's someone asking for you at the inn. You might want to go see him right away."

Lassarina arched a brow and looked at Sapphire confused. "Are they asking for me or for Eisa?"

"You. Talen-Jei will point him out for you."

Lassarina let out a heavy sigh and stood up, stretching her body as she started walking out. While she was worried over who was asking for her by her actual name, she was relieved to finally be getting out of that paper-cluttered room. At least she looked different now, so she could scope out who was asking for her before approaching them. She quickly made her way to The Bee and Barb and walked up to Keerava and Talen-Jei at the bar. They were the only other people in Riften outside of the Guild that she trusted with the knowledge that she was still alive and she was making use of the traffic that came through their inn and all the rumors they heard during the day.

"Sapphire said someone was here asking for me?" asked them softly.

Talen-Jei nodded. "He's in the upstairs room."

"Who is it?"

Both Argonians just smiled at her. "Just go up. It's the larger room."

Now she was curious and made her way up the stairs to the large room. As she neared the room, Lassarina saw the door was open a crack and placed her hand on her dagger to be safe. She knocked softly on the wood and gasped when she heard his voice.

"Come in."

She pushed open the door and stared at Vilkas in shock. When he looked up at her, his brow furrowed in confusion and asked with a menacing growl, "Who are you?"

* * *

><p><em>Woah! Vilkas is in Riften! All right people, let's have a play-by-play in this relationship war. Lassarina was the one to decide they needed some time apart and left, giving her a lot of the power in the ring, but in an unexpected turn of events, Vilkas has made the first move to seek her out. But he doesn't know she's changed her appearance, so we'll have to see how this plays out.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	13. Chapter 13

_This chapter is NSFW. YAY! The first one of the book! I'll go hide my head in shame now..._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Closer by Nine Inch Nails, 1000 Words from Final Fantasy X-2 _

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Thirteen<strong>**

****(27********th******** of Rain's Hand, 205 4E)****

Lassarina stood in the doorway, her eyes wide and terrified. It was obvious that Vilkas wouldn't recognize her with the spell that Galathil cast over her, but the spell didn't change her voice. The moment she spoke, he'd know it was her and she had no idea how he was going to react. Though, she did have a pretty good idea.

"Hey, I asked you a question," Vilkas growled. "Do I need to ask it more slowly? Who. Are. You?"

Lassarina opened her mouth to answer, but found she couldn't form any words. Her hands trembled as she glanced over her shoulder at the hall behind her. She could always just leave; he still had no idea who she was and he would simply assume she had just been some stupid girl. She wasn't wearing her guild leathers, so it wouldn't dwell too long with him.

_Aye, I'll walk away and have Galathil remove the spell before I come back, _she decided.

But just as she turned away, Vilkas spoke. "Are you from the Guild?"

Turning her head to him, she nodded stiffly.

"My wife is the Guildmaster; did she send you?"

If she said yes, he'd start asking her questions that would require more than just a nod or a shake of the head, so she shook her head no. He sighed heavily and then shocked her by walking right up to her and placing a hand on her shoulder.

"Look, could you please go find her and make sure she's coming?" he asked her, his eyes dark and desperate. "I . . . I just really need to talk to her."

Gulping a bit, she nodded.

The corner of his lip turned up in a smile. "Thank you. I really appreciate–"

Vilkas's words trailed off and his gray-blue eyes narrowed suspiciously, fixated on something on her neck. Lassarina was already cursing internally, realizing he was staring at the small tattoo she had gotten when they last came to Riften together for Brynjolf and Amelia's wedding. It was a black Shadowmark of protection etched into her skin just below her ear, barely the size of a septim and only visible if she tucked her hair behind her ear. Heart hammering in her chest, she tried avoiding Vilkas's gaze, but he forced her to look at him, grasping her chin firmly in his hand.

He studied her for a moment, before finally his eyes blazed with anger. "Lassarina?"

She yanked her chin out of his grasp and gritted her teeth. "Aye."

"But, how–what in Oblivion did you do to yourself?"

"I used magic to change my appearance," she explained with a shrug. "It's not a big deal."

"Not a big deal? Why the fuck did you do this to yourself?"

"Why do you even care?"

Vilkas pulled her into the room roughly and slammed the door shut. "I care because I'm your husband! Were you just going to not tell me it was you?"

Lassarina ran her fingers through her blonde hair, clutching the shortened end in frustration. "Of course I was going to tell you!"

He scoffed and glared at her accusingly. "Really? Because it seemed to me you were getting ready to turn tail and leave like you always do."

"Like I always do? And what is _that _supposed to mean?"

"Just that you always run away, Lassarina. It's always easier for you to just run away."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I was going to come back, you insensitive ass!"

"What, after six months?"

Lassarina gasped at the verbal blow and stared at him, her whole body fuming with anger. She wanted to lash out at him, but part of her was just too tired and just wanted to curl up in her bed in the cistern and just make the rest of the world go away.

"Were you going to get addicted to skooma again while you were at it?" Vilkas continued, pacing back and forth across the room. "Then come back after you'd hit rock bottom."

She fought hard against the tears that were threatening to pour from her eyes. "Nay, I thought I'd drink my troubles away this time around, take a page from your book. Maybe have Vipir or Etienne keep me company. They've always been sweet on me, so at least I could hop into bed with someone I know this time!"

Vilkas spun and gave her a pained glare. "Don't you even fucking joke about that!"

"Why not? You had no issue bringing up the fact that I slept with another man last time I'd gone off the edge! You even accused me of sleeping with Finverior! Sounds like I'm nothing but some loose harlot in your eyes right now, so maybe I should just be one!"

Vilkas snarled and shoved her against the wall behind her. "I will _not _share you with anyone!"

"We're separated, Vilkas! You have no say in the matter!"

He tore off his glove and held his hand up in front of her. "This ring on my finger says otherwise. _You _may have said we're separated, but I never agreed to it. You're _my _wife and you being in a mood doesn't change that fact that you and I are married in the eyes of the gods."

"I'm in a _mood?_"

"Aye, you're like a child throwing a tantrum. That's your real problem. You never fucking grew up. When things get tough, you just cry and try to avoid dealing with it."

Lassarina shoved him back and started moving toward the door.

"See? You're doing it again. When are you going to stop running from your problems, Lassarina?"

She whirled around. "Why are you even here, Vilkas? I thought I made it clear that I needed some time away from you!"

"You've been away for nearly a month. I came because I thought we could sit down and try to talk things out, to try and salvage our marriage!"

"Well, I don't want to talk things out yet!"

"How much more time do you need! We need to fix this for the twins' sake!"

Just hearing Vilkas mention the twins made something inside her snap. Lassarina raised her hand, ready to slap him across the face, but he caught her by the wrist and stopped her before she could do it.

"You don't get to talk about them!" she cried, struggling to pull away from him. "You neglected them for four months! You left them all alone!"

"I know!" he snapped, catching her other wrist as she swung it at him. "I'm going to have to live with that guilt for the rest of my life."

"Then go live with it back in Whiterun while I find them!"

She managed to wrench her wrists out of his grip and pulled open the door. She heard Vilkas step up behind her and slam it shut once more. Without warning he grabbed her wrists again and pinned her against the wood.

"You're not leaving," he growled into her ear before turning her around. "You're _mine._"

Then he lowered his head and slanted his mouth over hers.

There was nothing gentle or loving in this kiss. It was hard and bruising, like he was punishing her for every single time she ran away. For a moment, it felt like he still had his beast blood, giving off the sensation that he was nothing more than an alpha male ready to show his mate her place.

_Cured of the beast blood, yet we still act like animals, _she thought to herself jokingly.

He must have sensed her thoughts had drifted and fisted his hand in her short hair, forcing her head back and baring her neck to him. Vilkas's lips trailed down to the delicate skin, biting down and sucking harshly, effectively marking her plainly for anyone to see. She cried out and desire flared through her, head to toe. Lassarina knew she should be angry, that she should fight back since that was exactly what she would do if she still had the beast blood. So when he came back up to kiss her, she bit down on his lower lip.

He let out a hiss of pain and wiped his now bloody lip with his thumb, glaring at her with his piercing eyes. "That hurt."

"Good," she panted, both infuriated and aroused at the same time.

A cruel smile tugged at Vilkas's lips and he roughly moved her away from where she was still pressed against the door. He pushed her down on the double bed, tearing of his arm guards and pauldrons while staring at her with that predatory gaze. When Lassarina moved to sit up, he moved forward and shoved her back down.

"Stay," he barked harshly.

His hands moved rapidly to untie the leather straps of his armor and Lassarina watched him the entire time, panting softly. She had never seen him act like this in their entire marriage; so aggressive and forceful. He was behaving like a completely different person, one that most women would be terrified of. But not her. Seeing this passion in Vilkas ignited something in Lassarina and she wanted him just as badly as he wanted her in that moment, if the fire in his eyes was any indication.

Now he stood in front of her in his leather pants and linen shirt he wore beneath his armor. A growl rumbled in his throat as he lowered himself onto the bed over her and forced another kiss on her that she greedily returned. Lassarina gasped when his hand grasped the bodice of her tunic and yanked, ripping it right down the center and baring her body to him. Not wanting to be outdone, she ripped Vilkas's shirt down the center as well and took it a step further by gripping his shoulders with her nails.

Between their aggression, they both ripped each other's clothing to shreds, leaving them both naked. They were both fighting for dominance, constantly flipping the other one over, but eventually Vilkas got the upper hand. He had Lassarina pinned down to the bed on her stomach, trapping both her hands in one of his and pressing his hardened length against her, teasing her as he covered her neck with searing open-mouthed kisses interspersed with tiny bites. But he made no move to push himself into her.

"Vilkas," she groaned desperately.

"What do you want?" he asked, kissing her ear and nipping the lobe, causing her whole body to shiver pleasantly.

"Just do it!"

"Beg for it."

"Please, I need you!"

"Say my name."

Vilkas plunged into her depths with one hard thrust just as she screamed his name. He wasn't gentle with this, either. It was hard, rough and fast, their bodies slapping together in a frenzy of passion. It was pain and pleasure mixed together and driving them both mindless with need, desperate to have more of each other. Freeing her wrists from his hold, his hands grasped her hips in a bruising grip as he drew her hips up and back, driving into her with an intensity that she'd never seen in him before. It was like he was a completely different man, and it only made her desire him more. She grabbed a fistful of blanket in each hand and bit down on her lip, trying to keep her cries of pleasure contained. .

Lassarina was close to the edge and could sense that Vilkas was close based on the change in his breathing and groans of pleasure. His hips flexed powerfully behind her as his thrusts became deeper and faster. She whimpered with each stroke, unable to prevent the cries and moans spilling from her lips. She was nearly there.

"Shit," he hissed. Vilkas breathed her name as he reached his climax.

The warmth of his seed spilling inside her swiftly brought Lassarina to her peak so intensely that darkness formed in the edge of her vision. They both collapsed on the bed, Vilkas having the sense to move slightly to the side so his full weight wouldn't be on her. They were breathing heavily, their sweat-slick bodies feeling completely sated and exhausted in that moment. Drawing her into his arms, Vilkas covered them with the fur blanket on the bed and simply held her.

"I thought we were going to talk this out," she said, her eyes struggling to stay open.

Vilkas already had his eyes closed and was beginning to drift off. "Shut up and go to sleep."

Lassarina was way too tired to object.

**oOo**

Lassarina woke up with a startled gasp, her whole body trembling and covered by a cold sweat. For a moment she couldn't remember what awful dream had torn her from a semi-restful sleep, but then images began flashing through her mind: _Elenwen standing over her, her hand squeezing her throat. Elenwen laying burning hot iron on her skin. Elenwen's shadow looming over Faolan and Lyanna, both of whom were crying out for their mother._

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she wiped away the tears that had gathered in her eyes with her wrist and sighed heavily.

"Bad dream?" Vilkas asked her.

Turning her head, she found Vilkas lying on his side next to her looking at her with apprehension in his eyes. After three years of marriage, Lassarina and Vilkas could read each other extremely well, so he knew right away she'd had a nightmare, while she knew that he was agonizing over whether or not she would walk out again.

"Aye," she finally answered. "A really bad one."

He grunted a bit and they both fell silent. The air around them was extremely tense, which was an odd feeling for Lassarina, and she had no idea how to go from here.

"Your eyes are blue again," he whispered softly, breaking the silence. "And your skin isn't as tan."

She glanced down at her arm and saw that he spoke the truth. Her skin had reverted back from the sun-kissed gold Galathil had given her to the even-toned ivory she was born with.

"The spell must be starting to wear off," she sighed, drawing the blanket closer to her naked chest and sitting up.

"What spell?"

"There's a woman living in the Flagon named Galathil. She knows this strange form of magic she calls face-sculpting that can change a person's appearance for a brief period of time. It's like an advanced form of illusion magic that looks and feels real. But it's not permanent and the magic only lasts a few days before it starts to fade. It's usually my eyes that go back to normal first."

Vilkas propped himself up on an arm. "Why didn't you tell me it wasn't permanent?"

She shot him a tired glare. "Because you were being an ass."

"Lassarina, I was so angry I forced myself on you. If you had just explained I wouldn't have done that."

"Nay, it's fine. I think" -she let out a short laugh- "I think we both needed that."

The corner of his lip twitched and he sat up, scooting closer and laying a kiss on her bare shoulder. "Still, I didn't want to be so rough with you."

"I didn't mind it, Vilkas," she admitted. "It was different, but I didn't mind it."

He looked at her for a moment, pushing stray blonde hairs away from her face. "Well, now that we got all that anger out of our systems, maybe we could talk?"

"Aye, I guess we should."

There was another long pause of silence as they tried to figure out which one of them should start. Lassarina clearly didn't want to, so she nodded at Vilkas to go ahead.

"Lassarina, I understand why you're angry at me," he began. "I'm angry at myself too. We know now that you weren't dead, but even if you had been, that wasn't any excuse to neglect the twins the way I did."

"You were all they had left," she interrupted him. "I don't care how much you were grieving for me; you should have been there for them. They needed you."

"You don't know what it was like. They were always coming to me, looking at me with _your eyes_, asking where you were. I kept dreading the day that I'd have to tell them you were dead."

"They're still too young to understand death. Faolan and Lyanna would have long forgotten about me when that time came."

He let out a short, bitter laugh. "Aye, that's a reassuring thought, our children never even remembering what you looked like."

"I never knew my father's face before I went to Sovngarde. Not knowing it made the knowledge that he was dead easier to bear, Vilkas. I wouldn't have wanted Faolan and Lyanna to be sad." Lassarina frowned when she remembered something he said. "You said they were looking at you with my eyes, and the night I left, you mentioned something like that."

Vilkas's eyes darkened, and he quickly looked down to avoid her gaze. "It was . . . difficult to look at them. They both had your eyes and Lyanna . . . she looked just like you. For a while there, I felt like they were nothing more than a constant reminder of you. I kept thinking how it would have been easier if they weren't around."

Lassarina stiffened and looked at her husband, horrified. Part of her really couldn't believe what she was hearing, that the father of her children couldn't stand to look at them. Vilkas was admitting that his life could have been easier if the twins hadn't been around.

"How can you say that?" she asked him, her voice a sad whisper. "Those are your children!"

Vilkas looked up at her and she saw his eyes shone with unshed tears. "You don't think I already feel guilty enough for having those thoughts? I'm completely _disgusted _with myself, Lassarina! I'm going to be carrying around this guilt for the rest of my life. Every time I think about or look at Faolan and Lyanna, I'm going to feel like a weak, pathetic man! No amount of effort or love I can give them from here on out will ever be enough to cleanse me of it."

"_If _we get them back . . ."

Lassarina gasped when he roughly grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him. "Don't you even think that way."

"How can I not? We don't even know if they're in Skyrim anymore, Vilkas! The Thalmor could have just as easily taken them into Cyrodiil! The Imperials control the border, after all!"

"And what good would potential heirs to Windhelm be in Cyrodiil? It wouldn't make sense for them to be taken there!"

"Oh gods, you don't know," she sobbed suddenly.

"Know what?"

"Fucking Ulfric got Galmar's daughter pregnant! They're keeping it a secret for now, but if the Thalmor ever find out, they'll know Faolan and Lyanna are worthless and will more than likely kill them!"

Vilkas paled a little bit at her news, but he drew her into his arms to try and comfort her. Lassarina was still irritated with him, so she tried to pull away, only to have his grip tighten.

"Vilkas, let me go," she ordered him through her tears.

"Nay," he replied stubbornly. "Stop trying to get away from me. I'm fucking tired of you always running away."

"I don't always–"

"Nay, you do! You ran when you thought you strained my relationship with Farkas, you ran when you had the miscarriage, and now you're trying to run again. You just packed up and left to Riften without a second thought!"

"Vilkas–"

"Why? Why do you always run?"

"Because running is easier!" she snapped, finally managing to shove him aside. Climbing off the bed she glared at him, not even caring that she was completely naked, and continued her angry tirade. "I don't know how to deal with problems, Vilkas! I never fucking learned! I grew up in Honorhall, for Talos sake! When that evil bitch Grelod was coming for you, you either ran or you took the savage beating she had in store for you! I'd run somewhere safe, which was always Brynjolf! He'd protect me from her and make all my troubles go away because he was the closest thing to family I had left!

"But then I was a whole country away and couldn't run to him to protect me when my adopted father and brothers came looking for me! I had to run to the forest to delay them raping me! Then I killed Trebon's son and had to run away so I could stay alive! I had planned on running back to Riften, but you and Farkas came along and prevented that! You had to make me fall in love with you!"

He rose from the bed too and glowered down at her. "What, are you saying you regret this? You regret being with me?"

"Nay, I never said that!"

"Really? Because it's sounding like it!"

"Stop putting words in my mouth! You know I love you! If I didn't, I would have never married you!"

"If you really loved me, you wouldn't have run away the way you did a month ago! Do you know what it's like to have someone I care about choose to leave me? You of all people should know how badly it hurts! It's like I'm being abandoned, Lassarina, like you don't care enough about me to stay!"

"Vilkas, it's because of how much I love you that I left!" she shouted. "If I had stayed, I wouldn't have been able to look at you, to speak to you! I needed some time to get my anger toward you under control before I did something stupid!"

"Stupider than saying we should separate?"

"Temporarily! I said we needed some time apart! I never intended to leave you permanently! I only needed some time away to figure things out!" She drew in a stuttered breath, feeling her chest tightening painfully. "I regretted walking out the moment I was outside the city! I just" -gasp- "I couldn't–"

Lassarina broke off, struggling to breathe. But her body wasn't cooperating and she couldn't manage anything other than short, panicked gasps. She felt Vilkas's arms wrap around her and pull her to the bed, forcing her to sit down.

"Easy," he whispered soothingly into her ear. "Lassarina, relax. Just calm down and focus on taking deep breaths. You're all right, you're safe here, with me."

Even if she was angry with him, her body, mind and heart couldn't resist but be soothed by the man she loved. Vilkas knew just how to calm her down. The way his voice softened and rumbled huskily in her ear, coupled with the way he stroked her hair never failed to get her under control once again. Once she managed to take in deep, steady breaths, Vilkas rested his chin on the top of her head and sighed heavily.

"Is this how it's going to be from now on?" he asked sadly. "The two of us constantly fighting and screaming at each other?"

"We've hit a rough patch, Vilkas," she murmured. "Every marriage hits rough patches and we just need time to heal. I mean, be realistic, it's going to take more than one talk and amazing sex to fix this."

She felt Vilkas's shoulders shake with laughter. "Amazing, huh?"

Lassarina chuckled lightly and shook her head, dislodging his chin in the process. "Don't let it go to your head."

His lips touched her temple and she pulled back to look at him. "So what do we do now?"

"I don't know," she admitted with a shrug.

"What _do _you know?"

"I know that I still love you, Vilkas, and I don't want to live without you. I know I want our old lives back, where we were just husband and wife with two beautiful, happy children."

"I want that too, love. I guess we'll just have to take it a day at a time and focus on finding Faolan and Lyanna. You'll have to show me where we need to start looking."

She looked at him in surprise. "You're going to help?"

"Why wouldn't I? They're my damned kids too, Lassarina, and despite the four months where I ignored them, I still love them and want them back just as much as you do."

"I'll admit, I would love to have you here helping me. It's been hard without someone there to support me. Finn and Brynjolf try, but they don't know how to keep me sane and calm the way you do. The only really helpful thing Finn has done is give me Sleeping Tree Sap so I can sleep without nightmares."

"Finverior is here?"

"Aye, and here's the really shocking news, the man got married to that mage Onmund from Winterhold."

"Did the impossible happen? Or did I hear you incorrectly?"

"Nay, he's actually married. I actually feel bad because he's using time he should be spending with his husband helping me look for the twins."

Vilkas shrugged. "Well, he does care about them just as much as everyone else in Jorrvaskr. Have you gotten any leads to their location?"

She shook her head. "I have a map of about twenty Thalmor bases and no clue on which ones to start with. I sent out Vipir, Rune, Thrynn, and Cynric to scout out a couple of them about two weeks ago but haven't heard anything back yet."

"Something will turn up; you just have to keep believing that."

Lassarina nodded sadly and leaned in close when he lowered his head to kiss her. This kiss was much gentler than the one that caused them to tear each other's clothes apart. She could feel his regret and his love for her in it. He didn't have to say anything for her to know that he was sorry for everything, just like he could sense that she was sorry for running away . . . again. It gave her hope that maybe everything will be all right.

**oOo**

Two days later, Vipir returned to the cistern after scouting Falkreath Hold. When he asked to see Lassarina and she saw his face, she felt a bit anxious for his news and needed Vilkas there for emotional support. The Nord thief looked a bit nervous and panicked, but there was a triumphant gleam in his eyes.

"What is it?" she asked him desperately. "Did you find anything suspicious at the bases?"

"Nay."

Her heart sank and Vilkas wrapped an arm around her.

"But when I was riding back from Falkreath, I found a manor in the middle of the forest," he reported. "The place was enormous and I couldn't resist sneaking over to try and steal something."

Lassarina glared at him. "Why in Oblivion would I care about some manor in the forest, Vipir?"

"Because, the manor was filled with Thalmor soldiers. I couldn't get in and risk them seeing me, but I did see something interesting on the balcony."

"What?"

"I saw an Imperial woman playing with your son," Vipir told her with a smile. "I found your kids, Guildmaster."

Lassarina was so happy, she kissed the man right in front of her husband.

* * *

><p><em>See? Everyone happy now? They've made-up, but keep in mind, they're still in that awkward stage where they agree to be together again, but still hold some of the bitterness inside. Marriages take work people. But yay! Vipir brought back the best news EVER!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	14. Chapter 14

_Rescue mission for Faolan begins NOW!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Beautiful by Eminem, You're going Down by Sick Puppies_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Fourteen<strong>**

****(2********nd******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

"Here comes another one!" Finverior laughed as he pushed another bandit corpse down the stairs.

"Gods damn it, elf, why don't you use some effort and carry them down the stairs?" Vilkas shouted at him from below. "You're getting blood everywhere!"

"What, like they didn't bleed when we killed them?"

Lassarina glared at Finverior from across the room. "Will the two of you be quiet? We're right by a Thalmor base!"

"Speaking of which, I can see a soldier patrolling out there," Amelia said from where she was peeking out the small window. "I think we _all _need to be quiet."

"Love, get away from there before they see you," Brynjolf told his wife.

Lassarina pushed her short blond hair away from her face and started looking around the bandit hideout they had just infiltrated. When they arrived near the location of the Thalmor base her children were being kept in, they had been surprised to find a bandit hideout less than a five-minute walk away. She had given the orders to break in right away, and after Amelia had picked the lock, Vilkas had stormed in with Brynjolf and Rune, killing the three bandits inside as quickly and as quietly as possible. The small hideout would serve them perfectly until nightfall when they would make their move and launch the rescue mission to get her children back.

"We should rest and gather our strength before nightfall," Karliah told everyone as she dropped her pack on one of the small tables scattered around the room.

"Looks like they have a fully stocked bar," Lassarina said as she walked over to the counter and checked out the small shelves built into it. The shelves were cluttered with tankards and there was an iron dagger lying beside–

Lassarina let out a startled gasp and grabbed the object in her hand, staring at it in disbelief.

"Rina, did you find something?" Rune's voice asked from the other side of the bar.

She quickly rose from her knees and discreetly slipped the object into her pocket, regarding Rune with a smile. "Aye, nice big pouch full of septims."

The Imperial thief eyed her suspiciously for a moment before sighing and walking behind the counter next to her, reaching for a bottle of mead in the cabinet behind her. "Good, they've got Black-Briar mead." He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and waved the bottle in front of her. "Want to split it with me?"

"Nay, we shouldn't drink right before a rescue mission."

He shrugged and set down the bottle, his hand brushing against her hip lightly as he let go of her. "All right, I guess I'll help Vilkas and Finverior move those bodies."

Lassarina nodded and waved Karliah and Brynjolf over so they could start coming up with a plan of attack. They didn't have a clear layout of the Thalmor base or how many soldiers and mages were inside, so they were pretty much getting ready to go in blind. But they were thieves and were going in at night when they could use the greatest asset they all shared: their stealth and ability to hide in the shadows.

"I want to get this done as quickly and quietly as possible," she told her fellow Nightingales. "We need to kill _every _single person in there. Word that we're the ones who did this can never get back to Elenwen."

"But someone will come around investigating if the emissary doesn't hear back from this location after a while," Brynjolf told her. "They'll know something is up when they find everyone dead and the little bit of leverage they had gone."

"Why not use the bandits?" Karliah suggested. "We can take the three we killed and leave them inside the base. Make it look like bandits attacked them."

Lassarina's brows rose thoughtfully. "That's actually not a bad idea. Karliah, you, me and Finverior will have to take out whatever Thalmor are on guard outside with our arrows, and the rest will charge into the house and finish off the remainder."

"Sounds good," Brynjolf nodded. "There's seven of us, so we shouldn't have too much of a problem."

Lassarina nodded and her hands unconsciously drifted down to her pocket. Her whole body went stiff when she felt the object was no longer in there and she looked across the room at Rune. The Imperial was leaning against the wall and looking right at her, a silent order in his brown eyes. Clenching her hands into fists she gritted her teeth and forced herself to at least look calm. Then he pushed himself off the wall and nodded to the stairs. He wanted her to follow him.

"I need to go discuss something with Rune," she said quickly, walking around the bar. "I'll be back in a moment."

Karliah and Brynjolf said nothing, and she walked over to the Imperial. She stood right behind him as he led her downstairs to the hideout's basement, where Vilkas and Finverior were dragging the bodies over to the far corner.

"Vilkas, Finn, could you go talk to Karliah and Brynjolf?" Lassarina asked her husband and friend. "I'd like you to both give your input on the plan we came up with."

Vilkas wiped the bandits' blood on his pants leg and frowned at her. Lassarina thought it was strange seeing her husband fitted in Thieves Guild armor, but she was very adamant about him wearing it. His regular wolf armor wouldn't do in the situations they were going to be getting into; he needed the quietness of leather armor. He had agreed to it, but very grudgingly, and was constantly complaining about how little it would do to protect them.

"Sure, I'll go up and give them my expert advice," Finverior said smugly. "I _do_ know more about Thalmor tactics than the rest of you."

"Just get upstairs," Vilkas grumbled at him, shoving the Bosmer toward the steps. He followed him and as he passed Lassarina, he rested a hand on her shoulder and said, "After tonight we'll have our family back."

She gave him a tired smile and nodded. "Aye, then we can work on getting back to the way things were before all this."

Her husband kissed her temple and continued after Finverior. Things were still a bit awkward with Vilkas, especially after she kissed Vipir right in front of him in a silly action of thanks, but they were both committed to working things out. They loved each other and came to realize through everything that all marriages take work. They both needed to make an effort to improve themselves and change if they wanted to stay together for the rest of their lives.

But any improvements they made could be easily demolished if Rune opened his mouth.

"You took it when you grabbed that bottle of mead, didn't you?" she asked him quietly so no one upstairs would hear them.

"I did," Rune nodded, reaching into his sleeve and pulling out the small vial of skooma he had pickpocketed from her. "Lassarina, what in Oblivion are you thinking? Do you remember how hard it was for you to kick this stuff?"

"I wasn't going to take it."

"Then why did you have it in your pocket?"

"Quiet!" Lassarina hissed when he raised his voice. "I don't want anyone else finding out about this!"

Rune shook his head and glared at her. "Are you using again? You'd better come clean about it if you are. Someone strung out on skooma is useless in a fight."

"Nay, I haven't been using again! That's the first time I've even touched a skooma vial in two years." She groaned and sat down on a bench against the wall. "Rune, I haven't relapsed. I just had a moment of weakness. I swear I wasn't going to do anything about it."

The Imperial walked right up to her and held out the skooma vial. "Then prove it."

"What?"

"Prove it. Take this vial and destroy it, right now. If you do that, I won't say shit and this moment of weakness will stay our little secret."

Lassarina didn't need to be told twice. Snatching the vial from his hand, she rose to her feet and walked over to the nearby fireplace. She clutched the small vial tightly and stared at the flames for a few moments, taking several deep breaths before she tossed it. The heat caused the glass to shatter quickly and the flames consumed the skooma crystal, emitting the sweet tempting aroma that made her weak and privately regret destroying it.

"Our secret, right?" Lassarina asked when she turned around to look at Rune.

Her friend nodded and smiled at her. "Our secret. Trust me, Lassarina, you made the right decision there. You don't need that stuff. We're getting your kids back tonight and I'm sure you don't want them to see you strung out."

Lassarina nodded and headed up the stairs, willing night to come as quickly as possible.

**oOo**

"I've got one in my sights," Karliah whispered, her bowstring drawn back as far it would go. "Just give the word, Lassarina."

Lassarina scanned the perimeter of the large manor the Thalmor were hiding out in and spotted another one coming around the side of the house. Snapping her fingers at Finverior, she pointed out the soldier; and the Bosmer nodded and nocked an arrow trained on the Altmer. She did one last look around before she was satisfied and nodded to Karliah and Finn.

"Take them out."

The two elves at her side released their arrows, and they hissed through the air before hitting their mark. Both Thalmor fell to the ground, their shocked cries of pain cut off by their deaths. Lassarina rose from the crouch she had been in and called forth her healing magic, making her hand flash in a golden light twice before cutting it off. Closer to the manor, the rest of their group came out from where they were hiding behind the small stable. Easily spotting Amelia in the group because of how small the Breton woman was, she watched her pick the lock of the house.

"They're in," Lassarina told Karliah and Finverior just as the door swung open and they crept inside.

"Now we just have to hope that your husband doesn't screw up," Finverior muttered, slinging his bow across his back and drawing his twin daggers from their sheaths. "Now, let's go kill some Thalmor."

Lassarina rolled her eyes and let Finverior lead the way to the door. They reached the doorway and stepped inside the manor in time to see Brynjolf stab a soldier through the chest. The Thalmor cried out loudly and Lassarina immediately winced, since it likely alerted the whole house.

"Is someone there?" she heard a highborn accent call from the next room. An Altmer dressed in Thalmor robes suddenly appeared in the adjoining doorway, and his eyes widened as he shouted, "Intruders!"

Lassarina growled and pulled out her dagger, throwing it with ease at the mage. The blade embedded itself into the high elf's shoulder, and he screamed in pain right before casting a Chain Lightning spell at her and the rest of her thieves. She managed to dodge the spell by dropping to the ground, but she heard a shriek and raised her head to see Finverior slumping against the wall, his body convulsing a bit as the jolts of electricity coursed through his body.

"Gods damn it!" Lassarina swore, grabbing her bow off her back and quickly firing an arrow at the mage, just as he was getting ready to launch a Flame spell at them.

The Thalmor mage fell back from the force of the arrow and the flame spell hit the ceiling, exploding upon contact and engulfing the wood in fire. Rune charged forward with his sword ready in hand and finished the mage off with a quick stab through the chest.

"Rune, get back!" Amelia shouted.

Lassarina saw what the Breton was shouting about right away. Several Thalmor soldier dressed in the gold elven armor were advancing quickly, swords in one hand and readied spells in the other. Farther behind the group of soldiers, she spotted a middle-aged Imperial woman being ushered toward the back of the manor, a small bundle wrapped in a blanket in her arms. The woman bumped into a large dining table in her haste and Lassarina heard a cry of pain come from the bundle. Lassarina gasped. It was a child's cry she knew all too well.

"Faolan!" she screamed, rising from the floor and sprinting to try and catch the Imperial.

She was stopped in her mad dash, however, by Vilkas, who yanked her back by her arm. Lassarina was getting ready to yell at him to let her go but was interrupted when a fireball hit the floor where she would have been had her husband not stopped her.

"Don't be reckless!" Vilkas snapped, hefting his greatsword up and stepping around her to engage the soldier who had tried to burn her.

Amelia and Rune ran past her, followed by Brynjolf and Karliah, and soon the manor was filled with the sounds of fighting. Steel clashed with steel, blood splattered on the floor and walls with each wound inflicted, and Lassarina was numb to it all. She wasn't even aware she had engaged a soldier as well until his sword managed to get around her block and slash a shallow cut across her shoulder. She hissed in pain and retaliated by shoving her dagger clean through the Altmer's arm. A few drops of blood hit her cheek as it spurted out of the wound, and she took advantage of him screaming loudly in pain to yank the dagger out and slice it across his neck in a smooth swing.

She made a quick scan of the room and saw that they were doing well thinning their ranks. Vilkas was just cutting down an elf with his blade, and Karliah and Finverior had worked together to finish off another mage. The only thieves still fighting were Amelia and Rune. Lassarina stepped in to help Rune first and stabbed the Thalmor soldier in the back while Rune pierced his chest.

"Thanks," Rune breathed, wiping his forehead.

Suddenly, Amelia shouted in pain and Lassarina turned to see her body slam against the wall. The Altmer she had been fighting had shoved her roughly, stunning the petite Breton for a moment, a moment that the soldier was taking to try and finish her. Lassarina knew she wouldn't be able to reach in time to help, but she didn't need to. Brynjolf practically materialized beside the Thalmor and swung the pommel of his sword at his face. The high elf swore loudly and turned to face the red-haired thief, swinging his blade wildly at him. Brynjolf stepped forward and shoved Chillrend, the sword Lassarina had given him, right through the Altmer's chest, piercing his lung.

The elf choked on his own blood as it flooded his lung and glared defiantly at Brynjolf as he fell to his knees. Lassarina thought the battle was over, as did Brynjolf, who turned to check on his wife; but the Thalmor surprised everyone when he stood shakily and brought his sword down on Brynjolf's turned back. Time seemed to freeze as Lassarina's oldest friend cried out in pain and fell to his knees.

"Brynjolf!" Amelia screamed, catching her husband as he fell.

Karliah got between the Thalmor and Brynjolf and swiftly kicked him down before firing an arrow into his head. At such close range, the arrow went straight through his eye and skull and into the wood beneath him. He died instantly, and everyone turned their attention to Brynjolf, who was lying on the floor, his face twisted in pain.

"Finverior, Lassarina, heal him!" Amelia begged, cradling her husband's head in her lap.

"Flip him over," Finverior ordered.

Rune and Vilkas carefully did that and everyone was able to see the damage. The sword had sliced straight across his back in a long, deep cut starting on his right shoulder and ending just above his left hip. Frowning, Lassarina knelt beside Finverior and they both brought the warm, golden light of their healing spells to their hands, holding them right over Brynjolf's injury. It took several agonizing and draining moments, but they managed to close up the wound and heal some of the damage done to his spine.

"He'll live," Finverior announced once he was drained of magicka. "But we couldn't heal everything. There was some damage to the spine."

"What does that mean?" Amelia demanded, tears pooling in her eyes.

"It means he'll still be able to walk, but he'll start complaining about back pains like an old man."

"Who are you calling old?" Brynjolf asked painfully. "Just how old are _you_, elf?"

Finverior smirked. "I prefer to leave it a mystery. Now" –he turned to Lassarina– "let's go find your kids."

"I saw some Imperial woman head to the back of the house just as the fighting started," Lassarina said. "Amelia, you stay here with Brynjolf. Finverior, Rune, and Karliah, start bringing those bandit bodies over."

Everyone nodded as they acknowledged her orders, and Lassarina took Vilkas's hand as he helped her to her feet. She didn't need to tell him that he was coming with her, since it was obvious that if anyone should help her get the twins back it was her own husband. The walked side-by-side to the back of the manor, their weapons ready in case they met any more Thalmor. They expected to find the Imperial woman cowering in the corner, but instead they only found a large empty room that appeared to serve as a storeroom.

"There's no way out from back here," Vilkas said as he moved around the room. "She has to be around here somewhere."

Lassarina scanned the room, gritting her teeth. "I know I saw her come back here. It's all a matter of where she" –her gaze landed on something on the floor– "went . . . Vilkas, take a look at this."

Her husband came to stand beside her and saw what she was looking at. On the floor was a random rug that didn't seem to have any business being there. The placement was just too odd. Lassarina exchanged a look with Vilkas before walking over to the rug and kicking it aside with her boot, revealing a trap door.

"She went underground," Lassarina said as she grabbed the handle and pulled it open. "Let's go."

She slid down the ladder directly below her and found herself in a dimly lit basement set up to look like a small home. Vilkas climbed down after her and they both stepped forward to the adjoining room cautiously. As Lassarina walked across the threshold, she heard a screech of defiance to her right and was too startled to dodge the attack. The Imperial woman launched herself at her, slashing the elven dagger in her hand across Lassarina's collarbone. She let out a cry of pain and stepped back to let Vilkas deal with the woman.

"Don't kill her!" Lassarina ordered as Vilkas grabbed her wrist and forced the woman to drop the dagger. "She might not be serving the Thalmor willingly."

"Let me go!" the Imperial shrieked as Vilkas restrained her, pinning her against the wall.

"Lassarina, find something to bind her with!" Vilkas shouted, struggling to keep the woman still.

She spotted leather strips on a nearby table and snatched them up, walking over to Vilkas and helping him bind the woman's hands behind her back. Once her arms were bound, they tied her to a wooden post, all of them panting from the excursion. The Imperial was glaring defiantly at them, her teeth bared in a sneer as she struggled to get free of the bindings.

"Where are they?" Lassarina asked, looking around the room and seeing neither hide nor hair of either of her children. "I know you brought them down here!"

"Fuck off!" the woman snapped, spitting at Lassarina's face.

Lassarina wiped the glob of saliva from her face and slapped the woman. "Where. Are. They?"

Vilkas ignored her interrogation and was looking around the room. "Faolan? Lyanna?"

Suddenly they both heard a teary whimper coming from one of the two small beds in the room. Lassarina exchanged a look with her husband and walked over to the bed, kneeling on the floor and looking underneath. A relieved sob left her then, and tears pooled in her eyes as she laid eyes on her son for the first time in six months.

"Oh my gods, Faolan," she sobbed as she reached under the bed and pulled out her son.

Faolan let out a frightened wail and struggled against her hold, trying to get away from her. The reaction struck Lassarina's heart like a poison-tipped arrow, but she forced herself to smile and stroke his hair soothingly.

"Nay, baby, it's okay, it's me, it's Mama," she told her son.

Faolan looked at her with fearful eyes and swung his chubby little fists at her, screaming at her until she finally released him and he dove back under the bed. Lassarina covered her mouth in shock and scooted back from the bed.

"He's afraid of me," she whispered.

Vilkas was kneeling at her side a few seconds later and shook his head. "Nay, love, I'm sure he's just scared from all the noise and shouting." He moved beside the bed and peeked underneath. "Faolan, it's Papa. Come on out from under there, son."

This time Faolan didn't hesitate and crawled out from under the bed, throwing himself into Vilkas's arms and crying, "Papa!"

Vilkas held their son tightly and cradled his head, kissing the boy's soft black hair. "I'm here, Faolan. Papa's here." He looked at Lassarina then and shifted over to her. "Look, Mama's here too."

But when Faolan looked at her again, he quickly hid his face in Vilkas's shoulder and let out a little whimper. "Nay, strange lady."

Lassarina gasped and looked at Vilkas in dismay.

"It's because of the illusion spell, love," her husband reassured. "It hasn't worn off yet. Your hair is still blonde and you have the scar and white eye."

Lassarina nodded sadly and suddenly realized something. "Wait, where's Lyanna?"

Vilkas's eyes widened and he looked back under the bed. "She's not there. Faolan, where's Lyanna? Is she hiding?"

Faolan lifted his head a bit and shook it. "Nay, Lya no here."

Hearing her son say that made Lassarina see red, and she got up, turning to the still-bound Imperial. "Where is my daughter?"

The woman chose not to answer and glared instead.

Holding her dagger tightly, she walked up to the Imperial and pressed the tip against her belly. "I'll ask you again. Where is my daughter?"

The Imperial's lips curled into a cruel smirk. "She's not here."

Lassarina gritted her teeth and pushed the tip into the woman's flesh. "Tell me where she is or the last thing you see before you die is your own entrails!"

"Even if I did know, you'd think I'd tell you? That's some interesting magic you have on you, but it doesn't fool me one bit, Lassarina Stormcloak! I anxiously await the day when you and your pitiful brother Ulfric fall to the Dominion!"

Lassarina stared at the woman in shock. She sounded like a raving mad lunatic who praised the Thalmor. It was clear that she had been willing to help the Dominion with whatever they asked and they just happened to ask her to look after Faolan. But why not Lyanna? What did those damned elves do to her baby girl?

"Well, you just exhausted your usefulness," Lassarina muttered, bringing the dagger up to the woman's neck and got ready to slice.

"Wait, please!" she gasped, her eyes quickly glancing at Faolan who was still in his father's arms. "Please, not in front of him!"

Lassarina glanced over her shoulder at Faolan and saw his eye peeking up from Vilkas's shoulder. She couldn't let her son watch her kill a person in cold blood, even if she didn't look like his mother right now. Clenching the hilt of her dagger, she lowered it briefly.

"Vilkas, take Faolan upstairs," she told her husband. "Cover him in a blanket so he doesn't have to see what we did."

Vilkas clearly hesitated with that order. "Lassarina–"

"Just do it. Please."

Vilkas stared at her a moment longer before grabbing a small blanket off one of the beds and covering Faolan with it. Then he took him up the ladder and disappeared through the hatch. Once he was gone, Lassarina looked at the Imperial woman.

"You really have no idea where my daughter is?" she asked. "You might as well talk. It's over."

The Imperial glared at her, but sighed and shook her head only the tiniest bit. "No, I don't know where she is. Elenwen decided to keep your children in two different locations in case this exact situation occurred. Then she'd at least have one of them. I was tasked with caring for your son."

"And you clearly grew attached to him, since you cared enough to not want him to see someone being killed."

"Yes, I did grow attached. He's a sweet boy and doesn't need to watch a terrible act."

Lassarina nodded and took a deep breath. "One last question: what's your name?"

"Tanna," she replied, her gaze focused on the wall beyond Lassarina's shoulder.

Lassarina brought the dagger up again. "Thank you for taking care of my son, Tanna."

Then she slit Tanna's throat.

* * *

><p><em>They got Faolan back, but Lyanna is still missing! And the dark hatred for the Thalmor is getting stronger in Lassarina.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	15. Chapter 15

_I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG! I have just been so distracted with the release of ESO that the next chapter was one of the last things on my mind. Not to mention I was also needed for some base raids on Rust. But here's the next chapter! Now that Faolan has been rescued, we're going to be spending some time with Einarr for a few chapter. The war is just as important!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Mosh by Eminem, Mission Impossible Theme_

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><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Fifteen<strong>**

****(10********th******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

_Einarr,_

_ We found Faolan in a Thalmor base in Falkreath, but Lyanna wasn't with him. We couldn't find any clues as to where she might be in any of the books or papers they had lying around, but Lassarina is sending her thieves out to every Imperial controlled hold to find her._

_ I'm worried about Lassarina, though. She doesn't seem like herself lately, and if you could have seen her when we attacked the Thalmor base, you'd agree. It's like she's being controlled by this dark part of her that wants nothing more than to see every Thalmor killed. The sooner we can end this the better._

_ Hopefully we'll see you soon. Maybe you can talk to Lassarina and help get her back to normal. _

_ -Vilkas_

Einarr sighed and tossed the letter into the campfire once he finished reading it. While he was relieved that they had found Faolan, it unsettled him that they hadn't found Lyanna with him. Reading that his sister was behaving strangely wasn't helping him feel any better either. The last time she started behaving strangely was when she suffered that miscarriage and that led her to start abusing drugs.

_I'll have to write Vilkas and tell him to keep an eye on her, _he thought to himself.

"Einarr, you hungry?" Assa asked him from across the fire.

He looked up at her, snapping out of his thoughts, and smiled a bit. "I could eat something."

"Well, you'll eat some horker jerky, because it's all we've got."

Einarr caught the strip of dried meat Assa tossed his way and took a huge bite of it, sharing a grimace with Ralof, who sat beside him. While horker wasn't one of his favorites, he still ate it since it was either stomach it or go hungry. They were on the way back from a recruitment mission in Dawnstar that Galmar insisted on and had only succeeded in getting three people to join the Stormcloaks. Thankfully, though, they were only a few hours away from Windhelm and had only stopped because of the courier that intercepted them with the letter from Vilkas.

"Bad news?" Ralof asked him, gesturing to the smoldering ball of paper in the center of the fire.

"In a way," he replied. "My sister's son was found, but her daughter is still missing. Vilkas says they're working on finding her, though."

"Those Thalmor really have no morals, stealing children from their beds in the dead of night. It's bad enough Lassarina's children will have to grow up without a mother."

Einarr exchanged a quick look with Assa, who had a mouthful of bread before he turned and nodded to Ralof. "Aye, it is a shame. But they'll still have their father, their aunt and uncle, and me."

Ralof shrugged a shoulder and frowned. "Aye, and I know you'll love them, but I couldn't imagine growing up without my mother. My life would have felt half-empty."

"Enough talking and let's get moving," Assa said, standing up and slinging her pack across her shoulders. "I want to get home to my daughter while we still have some day left and I'm sure Einarr does too."

He couldn't agree more. He stuffed the rest of the jerky in his mouth while Ralof kicked dirt onto the campfire to put it out. Einarr shot a grateful look at Assa as they got ready to leave, thankful that she had gotten Ralof to drop the subject. It wasn't exactly easy to hide the fact that Lassarina was alive from him, but it was a necessary evil for the time being. It was only a matter of time until news that she was actually still alive left Whiterun, but hopefully they'd find Lyanna before that happened.

For the next couple of hours, they walked along the main road side-by-side, talking nonsense and just enjoying the first truly warm day of the year. When you lived in Skyrim, you only really experienced maybe a month or two of warmth before it got cold again. It was a rare sight, walking across the bridge to Windhelm and seeing the normally gloom-covered city against the bright blue sky, but it was oddly beautiful.

"All right, I'm heading back to the barracks," Ralof announced as soon as they were past the gates.

Einarr waved at his friend as he and Assa turned toward the marketplace. She had mentioned wanting to pick up something to make for dinner, and he wanted to buy a few sharpening stones off the blacksmith since he noticed the edges of her swords were getting a bit dull. While he bought the stones off Oengul, as well as some polishing oil for his greatsword, he spotted Assa's daughter Sofie walking into the market with a cloaked person around her height beside her. Einarr knew right away that it was Kiraya.

"Kiraya!" he called out to his daughter.

Her head turned in his direction, and Einarr saw her familiar feline eyes peeking out from beneath the hood of her cloak. She and Sofie immediately walked over to him.

"Did you just get back?" Kiraya asked him.

"Aye," Einarr nodded. "Sofie, your mother is by the stalls."

"Oh, okay, thank you for telling me." The young girl smiled before running off in search of Assa.

Once she was gone, Einarr paid Oengul and wrapped an arm around his daughter's scrawny shoulders. "So, you've finally decided to brave the streets?"

Kiraya rolled her eyes and elbowed him. "I've been coming outside with Sofie for days now. I just wear a hood and cloak to avoid getting any stares."

"Just make sure to head back to the house if there's any trouble."

"Wouldn't have any trouble if you had just let me go with Rohan to Solitude."

Einarr sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Kiraya, please don't start. I was even bringing back some good news."

Her hood shifted a bit as her ears pricked beneath the fabric. "What news?"

"They found Faolan and got him back."

"What? Really? Oh thank the gods! But . . . wait, what about Lyanna?"

Einarr frowned. "Unfortunately she's still missing. Elenwen must have split them up for security reasons."

"That woman is evil," Kiraya growled, her lip curling and revealing her sharpened canines. "Grandfather told me all about the things she did to him and other prisoners she'd torture."

"Where _is _your grandfather?" Einarr asked, looking around for his father.

"He's at the inn with his new friend Stenvar. He's a sellsword that's been helping grandfather get back in fighting shape."

"The old guy is finally getting his sword arm back, then?" Assa chuckled as she joined them with Sofie beside her. "Back at the prison, he'd always say how he'd be able to break out if he had a sword."

Einarr snorted and shook his head. "Aye, that would have been likely."

Assa laughed and raised the linen bundle in her arms. "Well, looks like it'll just be four of us for dinner, then."

"I'll help you, Mama," Sofie offered.

"Thank you, sweetie; let's get home."

**oOo**

After the sun had set and they had their dinner, Einarr sat in the main living area of Hjerim sharpening Assa's swords and taking the opportunity to show Kiraya how to do it as well. Assa had been summoned by Ulfric, so Sofie was left under his care and was sitting across the table from them reading a book. Every so often, she'd peek over the volume to look at what they were doing.

"Sofie, do you know how to sharpen a blade?" he asked her after a while.

The young girl looked a little embarrassed about being caught peeking at them, but she shook her head. "Nay, my papa died before he could teach me, and Mama's been coming and going too often to really take the time."

"Well, go find a dagger and I'll show you."

Sofie smiled and set down the book before running upstairs to the armory. He could hear her rummaging around through the ceiling and could smell her excitement. While Einarr waited for her, the front door opened and his father stumbled inside, his face slightly reddened and a hazy look in his eyes. He thought something had happened to him until the smell of alcohol reached his nose.

"Sweet Talos, Da, you smell like a meadery," he growled.

"Well, when someone challenges you to a drinking contest, you can't exactly say no," Thorolf grumbled, swaying a bit as he made his way over to the table. "You'll be happy to learn that I won."

"You haven't drunk heavily in nearly thirty years. You should take it easy."

"A Nord never loses the ability to drink heavily, son." He glanced at Kiraya and added, "Always remember that, little one, it could very well save your hide one day."

Kiraya wrinkled her nose at her grandfather's foul breath. "How exactly? By scamming people out of their valuables? Because an easier way to do that is by letting _other _people drink and then pick their pockets."

Thorolf arched a brow and glanced at his son. "She's been influenced by her aunt a lot, hasn't she?"

"Lassarina is the closest thing to a mother Kiraya has," Einarr sighed, but had a smile on his face.

When Sofie returned with an iron dagger, she saw Thorolf and quickly brought him some bread to try and sober him up. Then she took a seat beside Kiraya and listened as Einarr explained the best way to sharpen a dagger. They had been at it for about a half an hour when Assa finally returned from the Palace of Kings with a troubled look on her face. But the moment Sofie looked up at her, she forced herself to smile and came over to see what they were doing.

"Mama, Einarr's teaching me how to clean and sharpen weapons," Sofie told her mother excitedly.

"Really?" Assa asked, impressed. "Well, let's see how you're doing."

She inspected the dagger Sofie had sharpened with a trained eye and nodded approvingly. "This is very impressive, darling. It looks practically new."

"She's a natural at this," Einarr added, finishing up the polishing job he was doing on his own sword.

"Well, I'll have to put this in one of the display cases," Assa said, heading toward the stairs.

Without the dagger now, Sofie scooted closer to Kiraya to watch her work, giving Einarr a perfect opportunity to slip away and find out what was wrong with Assa. The look on her face worried him, and he needed to know what was going on. So without a word to the girls or his father, he headed upstairs and found Assa standing beside a display case, staring at the dagger in her hands.

"Assa, is everything all right?" he asked her. "Did Ulfric say something?"

Without looking up from the dagger, she sighed heavily and frowned. "He gave us our next assignment . . . we'll be away from Windhelm for at least a month."

When Einarr heard her say the time span, he immediately scowled and clenched his hands into fists, imagining he was strangling Ulfric. They had never had to be away from Windhelm longer than a couple of weeks, so the fact that they would be away for at least a month was simply infuriating.

"And why exactly do we need to be away for so damned long?" he growled.

She let out a bitter chuckle and looked at him. "Because we're going to be attacking and taking two holds within that time. Oh, and you'll love this. We'll be attacking Whiterun first."

Einarr looked at her in disbelief. _Aye . . . I'm definitely killing Ulfric._

**oOo**

Five days later, Einarr was standing in the Stormcloak camp outside Whiterun, seeing the city in a way he'd never seen it before. All of the drawbridges and gates were closed and the only people in sight were the Stormcloak soldiers and the Imperial troops standing on the walls of city, constantly on guard and fully aware of the enemy they were supposed to face. Galmar Stone-Fist himself was leading this attack and announced that they would attack at dawn tomorrow. Plenty of time for Einarr to sneak off and do what needed to be done.

_I'll sneak into the city through the Underforge, _he thought to himself as he walked around the edge of the camp, trying to remain unseen. _I need to warn everyone at Jorrvaskr to lock the doors and stay inside until the battle's over._

It brought Einarr immeasurable relief that his sister, Vilkas, Farkas and his family, and Kiraya weren't in the city, but the fact that the rest of his shield-siblings were brought him nothing but worry. If anything were to happen to them, he would never be able to forgive himself. Just imagining something awful happening to Aela and Randulf sent a shudder down his spine. He managed to edge away from the military camp, but as soon as he was a safe distance away, Assa suddenly stepped out from around the side of the burned wreckage that was once the meadery with a smirk on her face.

"You're a terrible sneak, you know," she stated simply as she walked up to him. "I noticed you trying to leave right away."

"Well, my sister is the sneak in the family," he replied. "I'd rather confront my problems than tip-toe around them."

"So why are you trying to sneak off now? You took the oath, so I think it's a little too late to back out of this, Einarr."

Sighing heavily, he raked his fingers through his hair and frowned. "Look, I wasn't trying to back out of this, I was just trying to get into the city to warn my shield-siblings to stay inside Jorrvaskr until the fighting is over."

"And how are you going to do that exactly? The city is completely sealed off."

His lips curled up in a sly smirk and he started to walk past her. "I have my ways, Assa; I have my ways. Just cover for me until I get back."

She obviously wasn't all too pleased with his request, but after a moment she nodded. "Just hurry back, all right?"

Einarr nodded and broke into a jog, heading toward the Underforge clear on the other side of Whiterun. He did his best to navigate his way there without being seen by any of the enemy soldiers patrolling the wall and let out a sigh of relief when he entered the well-hidden tunnel. He headed up through it and came out right below the Skyforge, finding Jorrvaskr's training yard empty except for two figures sitting on the porch. He quickly made out the appearances of Julius and Grognak and smiled. The Altmer was relaxed as ever with pipe in hand, and Grognak was reading a book while one hand absently tapped at one of his tusks, something he always did when he was lost in thought.

"Nice to see that even in the middle of a war, things never change around here," Einarr said as he approached.

Both mer looked up at the sound of his voice and seemed genuinely surprised to see him. Julius rose from his seat just as Einarr reached the steps and held out his hand in welcome. Einarr quickly held the man's wrist in a firm and familiar handshake and then patted Julius shoulder. It never ceased to amaze him how an Altmer from Alinor knew how to greet a Nord man, but he always figured that being around as long as he had, he might have picked up a few things.

"Einarr, it's good to see you," Julius said with a smile.

Grognak closed the book in his hand and rose from his seat, his eyes looking Einarr up and down before he grunted distastefully. "You look puny in that armor."

Einarr chuckled at the orc's bluntness. "Aye, don't even get me started on how much I hate this uniform. I already have first-hand experience that it isn't enough to protect me in battle. But sadly it's what I have to wear."

"I must say, I'm surprised to see you here," Julius told him. "They've locked down the city and aren't letting anyone in or out."

"Well, not everyone knows about the Underforge tunnel. I needed to see you all before the battle. Is everyone inside?"

Grognak nodded. "Everyone except for Ria and Erendriel."

"And where are they?"

"They left the city when they heard that Balgruuf sent back Ulfric's axe," Julius explained. "They weren't clear about where they were going, but I have a strong feeling he took her to Riften."

Einarr rolled his eyes. "Hopefully he'll stop being an idiot and marry her already. Anyway, let's go inside before someone sees me in this uniform."

His two shield-siblings nodded and they all stepped inside the mead hall. When he first walked in, he noticed how empty it both looked and felt, since half of the Companions weren't in Whiterun, but then he saw an excited three-year-old running right at him.

"Einarr's back!" Randulf cried out, tackling into his legs and hugging them. "Mama, Einarr's back!"

Aela, who was sitting at the table, and smiled. "I can see that, cub. Please be careful not to knock him over."

"Nay, he's fine, Aela," Einarr reassured her as he picked up the young boy and held him. "Guess you've missed me, huh, Randulf?"

"Aye!" Randulf nodded as he looked around. "Where's Kiki?"

"_Kiraya, _didn't come with me, but you'll see her soon, I promise."

"Auntie Anna took Tystane and Han away," Randulf babbled with a scowl. "I got no one to play with."

"Don't worry, they'll come back soon too." He turned to Julius. "Could you go and get everyone for me? I need to talk to you all."

Julius nodded and headed downstairs. Grognak went to take a seat at the table while Einarr carried Randulf over to his mother. She looked happy to see him, but then he saw how tired she was and wondered how much sleep she'd been getting.

"You look exhausted, Aela," he said, placing Randulf in a chair and sitting down beside him.

"I've been busy," she explained rubbing her face with one hand.

That's when he noticed the band of iron around one of her fingers and blinked. "Aela, what are you doing with that ring on?"

Aela gasped and looked at Hircine's Ring on her finger. "I've been going out hunting for Lassarina and Vilkas's children. I need the ring so I can remain a wolf as long as I want."

Einarr frowned and lowered his voice so Grognak wouldn't hear. "You need to be careful. If you're not, you might lose yourself to your wolf and never be able to change back again."

"I know."

"Promise me you won't wear it more than you need to."

She looked conflicted for a moment, simply staring at the ring. But then she let out a heavy and tired sigh and pulled the iron band off. "I promise."

Confident she wasn't lying to him, Einarr dropped the subject and waited for Julius to return with the others. Torvar appeared to have been sleeping off a hangover while Athis and Njada both looked like they dressed in a hurry–no doubt involved in other leisurely activities–and Rona came out of the kitchen with a wash rag in hand, which meant she had probably been cleaning. They were all equally surprised to see Einarr and were all trying to catch up with him at once, but he needed to be quick and leave before someone back at camp noticed he was missing.

"Look, I can't stay long, so I'll keep this brief," he announced, standing before all of them. "Tomorrow the Stormcloak army attacks Whiterun. I came to tell you to keep the hall doors locked until it's over. I don't want any of you on the streets, because they'll attack anyone they see. If you have anyone you want to keep safe, I recommend telling them to do the same. Tomorrow will be a bloody day and I don't want to lose any of you."

"Why are they making you fight this battle?" Njada demanded. "I understand why you joined the Stormcloaks, but forcing you to attack your home is wrong. You shouldn't have to do this."

"I agree," Athis muttered.

"I'm not happy about it either, but this civil war needs to end and I'd rather have a part on how it ends," Einarr explained. "The Thalmor need to be stopped, and the Stormcloaks seem to be the only ones who agree." He paused and took a deep breath. "Lassarina and Vilkas have already found Faolan, but Lyanna is still missing. Even when we find her, the twins and my sister won't be safe so long as the Thalmor are in Skyrim.

"So please, just promise me you'll just stay inside tomorrow. I can't stand the thought of any of you getting mixed up in this and potentially getting killed."

His shield-siblings looked at each other with frowns or scowls on their faces, but they all reluctantly agreed to his request. Einarr's task was complete with that, and he was getting ready to leave when he remembered something. He headed downstairs to his room and knelt beside his footlocker, removing a piece of armor he had collected a while back. Once he had it, he snuck out of Whiterun through the Underforge and made it back to the Stormcloak encampment without any problems. Assa was sitting by the cooking pot with Ralof, stirring something inside, and they both looked up as he approached.

"Did you warn them?" she asked quietly.

Einarr narrowed her eyes and glanced at Ralof quickly.

"She already told me where you went," Ralof chuckled, catching the glance.

Einarr growled and sat beside them. "Aye, I warned the Companions, and they'll be locking the doors before the battle starts."

"I can only imagine how you're feeling right now, Einarr," Assa said sympathetically as she continued to stir the pot. "Having to join an attack on your home . . ."

"Luckily I know everyone so I'll be able to tell the Imperials apart from the citizens."

"How'd you get into the city anyway?" Ralof asked. "I thought there was only one way in."

"Sorry, Ralof, but it's a secret only the Companions know." Mentioning the Companions, he reached into his pack and pulled out the ebony helmet he had brought from his room. "By the way, Assa, I thought you might like this."

Assa gasped and looked at the helmet in disbelief, her hands starting to reach out, but pulling back slightly. "Where did you get that?"

"I found it inside an Ancient Nord tomb a couple of years ago," he explained, holding it out for her. "It's the only ebony armor piece I own, but I thought it'd look a lot better with the pieces you've already collected."

Assa's eyes brightened a bit with unshed tears, but she quickly blinked them away and smiled at him. "Einarr, thank you, you have no idea how much this means to me. Being one step closer to completing that set that Ingolf and I started . . ."

"It was the only thing I could think of to thank you for the hospitality you've shown my family, giving us a place to stay." He smiled and placed the helmet in her half-outstretched hands. "So just take it already."

She took the helmet and stared at it adoringly, running her fingertips along the face as she admired it. "Thank you so much."

Ralof rolled his eyes beside him. "Gods, enough with the sappiness! We have a battle to win and a hold to take in the morning!"

Assa blushed a bit and rose to walk to her pack and store the helmet. Einarr watched her, feeling a bit embarrassed over how sentimental he got in that moment, but it was worth it to see Assa smile the way she did. It brought an unfamiliar sense of joy within him that he quickly pushed away for now. He couldn't focus on that because in the morning, he was walking into battle.

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><p><em>Next chapter: The Stormcloaks attack Whiterun and Einarr receives more than one surprise.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	16. Chapter 16

_Battle for Whiterun starts now!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Hand of Blood by Bullet for my Valentine_

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><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Sixteen<strong>**

****(16********th******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

Throughout his entire life, there had only been a few moments where Einarr was nervous about walking into a certain situation. The first time he had ever made love to Faraya had been one, as was when he married her a few months after. When he stood outside Jorrvaskr to speak with his sister for the first time in sixteen years, he had been afraid she wouldn't want him around and ask him to leave her alone for the rest of their lives. And when he and Lassarina stood before the portal that would take them to Sovngarde to fight Alduin, he thought he was going to be sick because of how terrified he was. But now he could add marching into battle on Whiterun into that short list.

Flaming boulders launched through the sky from catapults seeking to weaken Whiterun's walls, and arrows rained down from either side of the battlefield. You couldn't take one step without the possibility of risking your life, and Einarr was doing so without a shield. He had never been one to fight with a short sword and shield, but for the first time ever, he wished he was doing just that. Then at least he'd have some added protection against the arrows.

_I'll have to take Njada up on that shield and sword lesson one of these days, _he thought to himself as he stood beside Assa and Ralof and listened to Galmar shout words of inspiration to his soldiers.

"They say that our cause is false and that we are nothing more than thieves, thugs, and murderers! But no! We are farmers! We are craftsmen! We are sons and daughters of shopkeepers, maid servants and soldiers! We are the sons and daughters of Skyrim!"

All around him the soldiers roared and shouted their approval, smacking their weapons against their shields in a cacophony of sound. Even the normally quiet Assa started shouting, her gray eyes burning with admiration and hope. Einarr still didn't like Galmar very much, but he could respect the fact that he could inspire his men to do anything, no matter how impossible or life-threatening it was. They would fight to their dying breath if that was what it took to take this city.

"We have come this far because our cause is true!" Galmar continued. "Because we fight as one! And because our hearts are bursting with anger! What we do here today, we do for our country! For all the true Nords of Skyrim! Whiterun's walls are tall, but they are old and crumbling, like the Empire whose Legion lines them. They've barricades to block us, but we'll tear through them and the Imperials behind them!

"Our objective is the drawbridge. If we can find a way to drop it, the city will be ours! Everyone on me. Let's show these Imperial milk drinkers what true Nords look like!"

Einarr gritted his teeth as everyone began charging and gripped the handle of his greatsword tightly, forcing away the guilt that was eating away at him. He was doing this to keep his family safe. He just had to keep reminding himself that this was all for them. So he swallowed down the lump in his throat and charged alongside the army, dodging flaming boulders and arrows as he went.

The Legionnaires were more than ready for them when they neared the stables and met them with teeth and steel flashing in the smoke and firelight. The air was so acrid that Einarr couldn't get in a clear breath of fresh air as he began fighting an Imperial soldier nearly half a foot shorter than him. It was a fight that ended quickly when he slashed his greatsword across the man's chest, but it was a joyless victory. He was only the first of many Einarr would be forced to kill this day.

The battle was already looking to be in the Stormcloaks' favor as he caught a glimpse of Assa climbing on top of a pile of rocks beside the wall and jumping across the short gap, stabbing the enemy soldier that stood there. Several Stormcloaks followed her path, getting past the spikewall barricade in that manner while Ralof and Galmar ruthlessly chopped away at it. Einarr was about to join them when the ground shook from the force of another burning boulder and the screams of horses reached his ears. He whirled around and was stricken to see that one side of the stable got struck by the boulder and was being engulfed in flames.

"Shit!" he swore, immediately worrying for his mare and sprinting over.

Stepping into the stables, Einarr saw that the boulder did kill one of the horses, but it wasn't Allie. His mare was very much alive, rearing back and panicking inside her own stall.

"Easy, girl," Einarr tried soothing his horse as he struggled to get the wooden gate open. "I'll get you out of there."

He unhooked the latch and reached for Allie's bridle, roughly pulling her along outside of the burning stable. Once she was out, he turned her away from the battle and smacked her rump. He did the same for all the horses that remained, and by the time he was finished, a loud cheer erupted from the Stormcloak soldiers as the drawbridge dropped and gave them access to the city. The Imperial soldiers and Whiterun guards were given orders to retreat back into the city at the same moment that Galmar shouted at the soldiers to charge the gates.

Einarr swallowed his guilt once more and followed the soldiers into the city. Once he was through the gates, Galmar ordered them to splinter off and make for Dragonsreach to force Balgruuf to surrender.

"Einarr, Ralof, with me!" Assa commanded, running toward the marketplace.

He followed Assa through the streets, thankful to see that no civilians were on the streets. But as they passed the market and neared the Gildergreen, Einarr froze at the site of a body dressed in tattered clothing slumped over one of the benches.

"Gods damn it!" he swore, running over and identifying the man right away.

It was the Redguard beggar that had been living on the streets since before Einarr made his home in Whiterun. The man was a drunkard, and a short-tempered one at that, but Einarr always managed to give him some coin every day so he could feed himself. Just seeing him dead against the stone bench, his life blood flowing out from the slash across his stomach, made Einarr feel terrible. He should have prevented this. As the Dragonborn and Thane of Whiterun, he was supposed to be protecting these people!

"Did you know him?" Assa asked quietly.

"Well enough to mourn his death," Einarr replied sadly, gently shutting Brenuin's lifeless eyes. "May the roads lead you to warm sands, my friend."

As he rose to leave, Einarr paused at the sound of a whimper beneath the bench. Curious, he knelt back down and peered underneath to see Lucia, a orphaned Imperial girl who had shown up a few weeks ago and had been living on the streets ever since. He had always seen the girl with Brenuin, since the homeless Redguard seemed to be the only person who cared about her, and Einarr was starting to piece together what had transpired here.

"Lucia," he spoke gently.

"No, leave me alone!" Lucia sobbed, covering her head with her arms.

Einarr frowned. "Lucia, I'm not a bad person. You know me, I'm Einarr of the Companions."

The little girl gasped and peeked out from under her arms. "The Dragonborn?"

"Aye, that's right. Now come with me and we'll get you somewhere safe."

The little girl crawled out from under the stone bench and practically threw herself at him, hiding her face against his shoulder. Einarr quickly handed his greatsword over to Ralof and cradled Lucia's head in his hand.

"I'll be right back," he told them as he turned toward Jorrvaskr and ran up the steps.

When he reached the doors Einarr raised his fist and pounded on the wood.

"Go away, there's nothing for you here!" shouted Aela's voice from the other side.

"Aela, it's Einarr!" he shouted right back. "Open the door, I've got a child with me!"

The door opened a crack and Aela let out a sigh of relief when she saw him. He passed Lucia to his forebear and moved to pull the door shut, but Aela stopped him.

"Einarr, please stay safe!" she begged him.

"I will," he promised before turning away. "Lock the door!"

The door closed and Einarr ran back to Ralof and Assa, who were fighting off a small group of Imperial soldiers. His greatsword had had to be abandoned by Ralof on the ground, so as he neared, he picked it up off the ground and slashed the back of the nearest Imperial.

"Let's finish these guys off and head to the keep!" Assa ordered, stabbing her twin swords into another soldier's gut and slashing outwards.

Einarr helped them finish off the onslaught of soldiers, making sure not injure any of the Whiterun guards that fought alongside them and choosing to just knock them out in lieu of killing them. Once their way was clear, they ascended the stairs up to Dragonsreach, rendezvousing with Galmar and his squad at the base.

"Let's finish this," Galmar growled as his soldiers chopped down the spike wall blocking their path and approached the large doors of the keep.

The Imperials and Whiterun guards were waiting for them when they stepped inside, and Einarr watched Galmar fight for the first time. Despite his age, the man was still as strong as a bear and effortlessly took out any man that stood in his way. When they defeated that wave of soldiers Einarr stood beside Assa as they ascended the last set of stairs, finding Jarl Balgruuf armed and waiting for them. For the first time ever, Einarr saw his jarl dressed in full armor, but strangely enough he didn't feel the least bit intimidated.

"It's over, Balgruuf!" Galmar told the Jarl of Whiterun.

"It's not over until I draw my last breath, Stone-Fist!" Balgruuf snapped bitterly as he charged forward, swinging the Skyforge Steel sword that Einarr had given him as a gift from the Companions.

One of the Whiterun guards came at Einarr, sword swinging wildly, and he his greatsword to block the blow. He shoved the guard aside roughly and knocked him out with a hard strike to the helm. Then he caught a flash of steel out of the corner of his eye and cried out in pain as the blade slashed his bicep. Turning to his attacker, he met the ferocious red gaze of Irileth.

"It's good to finally see where your loyalties lie, Einarr," she snapped at him.

Einarr winced at her harsh tone and held his sword up to deflect another strike. He knew he should attack back, but his conscience wasn't allowing him to do so. This was a woman he fought his first dragon beside and whom he respected. She was sworn to protect the man who allowed him to make his home in Whiterun and to raise his family there. How could he be expected to fight them?

"Einarr, I've got your back!" Assa shouted as she ran at Irileth, her twin blades ready to strike.

Einarr gasped in shock and quickly stepped between the two woman, blocking Assa's strike with his own. "Nay!"

Assa's gray eyes stared at him in disbelief. "What do you think you're doing?"

Lowering his greatsword, he let it fall to the ground and shook his head. "I can't do this. I can't raise my blade against Balgruuf and the people who protect his city. This is my home and I refuse to be a part of this!"

"So you'll turn your blade against us?" Galmar spat, kicking Balgruuf down. "You will fight!"

"I will not!" Einarr shouted. "You do not command me, Galmar!"

Galmar spat at his feet and pinned Balgruuf down with a boot on the chest. "You're a weak man. A coward like you father! You don't have the stomach for war!"

"Balgruuf!" Irileth gasped, running forward to try and get Galmar away from the Jarl of Whiterun.

But Assa ran up behind her and crossed her blades across the Dunmer woman's neck. "Take one more step and I'll slit your throat."

"Do it! I dare you!"

"Irileth, nay, stand down!" Balgruuf commanded, concern for his housecarl apparent in his eyes. "Everyone, stand down! That's an order!"

"Is this your way of surrendering?" Galmar asked.

"Yes," the jarl replied tightly. "I surrender. Give me a few hours to gather my household, and I'll depart. You have my word."

Galmar moved his foot off the man's chest and Assa released Irileth, allowing the housecarl to run over and help Balgruuf to his feet. Once the defeated jarl was standing, he glared right at Einarr.

"I thought better of you, Dragonborn," Balgruuf said. "I hope it was all worth it."

In hindsight, Einarr would have liked to say that he walked out of this battle without any regrets, but when Balgruuf looked at him with disappointment in his eyes, he felt about two inches tall.

**oOo**

Balgruuf the Greater stepped down as Jarl of Whiterun after that and was replaced by Vignar Gray-Mane. The Stormcloak soldiers and what remained of the Whiterun guards were tasked with putting out the fires that raged around the city. Einarr stepped up to help them, bringing the Companions with him and avoiding the distrustful gazes that were shot in his direction. The citizens and guards that were helping get the city back under control seemed to all hate him, accusing him silently of his betrayal to the city. He felt like a stranger in his own home.

"Just ignore them, Einarr," Aela reassured him as she grabbed another bucketful of water from the well. "We know the reason why you did this, even if they don't."

"I knew what I'd be doing when I agreed to join the Stormcloaks," he told her with a sigh. "But I never thought I would be seen as someone to hate before the end of it."

"You aren't hated; they're all just scared and confused at the moment. The city was just laid siege to and a lot of people lost their lives."

Hearing her say that made Einarr think of Brenuin and then immediately remember Lucia. "Is Lucia all right?"

"Aye, she's fine. Rona's looking after her and stuffing the girl full of food. She's grieving over Brenuin's death, but the shock will soon pass."

"At least I was able to save someone. I want her to stay in Jorrvaskr for the time being, until arrangements can be made for her."

"Of course. Rona seems to have taken to her, and Randulf is already pestering the girl. You did the right thing getting her off the streets."

Einarr sighed and sat on the edge of the well. "I only wish I could have done more. I feel like the worst person alive right now, Aela."

She gave him a sympathetic look and sat beside him, wrapping her arms around him in a tight hug. It was a simple gesture, but it was helping some. Aela was his closest friend in Skyrim, and because of the beastblood she had given him years ago, their bond was strong. They always knew what the other was thinking or how to help them feel better. And Aela knew that Einarr didn't need much to have his spirits lifted.

Then Assa's voice reached his ears. "Einarr, you're wanted up at the–oh, I'm sorry if I'm intruding."

Einarr pulled away from Aela's embrace and glanced over at Assa, who was staring at them with an embarrassed look and, for some strange reason, annoyance in her eyes.

"You aren't interrupting anything, Assa," Einarr told her, standing up and rolling a shoulder. "This is Aela, the acting Harbinger of the Companions until such time as this war ends and I can return to my post. Aela, this is Assa, Thane of Windhelm and the woman who has graciously given Kiraya, my father, and I a place to stay while we're there."

"So _you're_ the Thane of Windhelm," Aela remarked, walking over to Assa and grasping her wrist in a gesture of welcome. "I've heard a lot about you. They call you the Butcher's Bane."

Assa rolled her eyes. "I hate that name . . . and please, don't refer to me as 'Thane.' I can't stand titles."

Aela stiffened for a moment before she burst out laughing, "Gods, you and Einarr must be good friends. You're both thanes and well-known people, but you still hate the attention."

"I enjoy a quiet life," Einarr defended gruffly. "So, Assa, you were saying?"

"Galmar wishes to speak with you up at Dragonsreach. I'm supposed to escort you there."

Groaning loudly, he started walking toward the keep. "Well, this isn't going to be fun . . . Aela, I'll see you back at Jorrvaskr later."

"All right," the huntress nodded. "Randulf will be waiting, expecting a battle story."

Einarr smiled. "Aye, I'll tell him about the time Rina and I defeated Alduin. He seems to enjoy that one."

Aela turned to get more buckets of water, and Einarr walked with Assa toward Dragonsreach. As they walked, he noticed she seemed a bit tense and clearly had something she wanted to say or ask, since her mouth kept opening and closing every few seconds. It was only when they reached the Gildergreen that she finally turned her head to him.

"So, who's Randulf?"

"Randulf is Aela's three-year-old son," he explained with a fond smile.

"Ah, and I'm guessing he's attached to you?"

"Well, Randulf's father, Skjor, died shortly after Aela found out she was pregnant, and I ended up becoming the closest thing to a father the boy has. I know what it's like to raise a child alone, so I was there for Aela throughout her entire pregnancy and I'm helping her raise him. Up until a few months ago, the kid thought I was actually his father."

She nodded and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Well, I think it's a good thing, what you're doing. Not many men would be with a woman who already has a child and take on the added responsibility."

Einarr looked at her surprised. "Wait, what in Oblivion are you talking about?"

"You and Aela are together, aren't you?"

"Why does everyone think that?" he growled in annoyance. "The newest member of the Companions thought that; so did my father."

"Well, you two seem very close, so it felt safe to just assume . . . so, wait, you _aren't _together?"

"Nay, Aela is only my best friend and shield-sister. I consider her and her son part of my family, but I've never even remotely felt anything romantic for her. That would be like me being in love with Lassarina."

"Oh . . . I see. I'm sorry for making assumptions."

He shook his head and held up a hand. "It's fine. Other people have made them too."

The rest of the walk to Dragonsreach was quiet, but Einarr noticed that she had visibly relaxed a lot, and it made him wonder why she was tense to begin with. But then part of his mind told him to just ignore it, since it was never wise to pester a possibly irritable woman with questions. So he just allowed her to lead him out to the Great Porch, where Galmar was talking to a few of his men. But when he spotted Einarr, he dismissed them and waved him over.

"What do you want, Galmar?" Einarr asked him as he approached.

Galmar looked around the surrounding area and asked, "Was this where you and your sister caught that dragon?"

Einarr arched a brow in confusion and nodded. "Aye. Did you honestly call me all the way over here just to ask me that?"

"I'm just having a hard time wrapping my mind around the fact that the same man who captured a dragon and defeated Alduin threw down his blade in the middle of a battle. I needed to confirm it."

"You could have asked any Whiterun guard about it-oh, wait, you can't. I wonder, how many of them died today?"

"Doesn't matter that they died, so long as they died fighting for what they believed in, something I respect. But you, you don't even believe in our cause. You wouldn't raise your sword against the people here. You even protected that gray-skin from your shield-sister."

"That gray-skin has a name-Irileth-and she's done more to earn my respect than you have, Galmar. She fought by my side when a dragon attacked Whiterun, and Balgruuf gave me a home here in his city. I wasn't about to strike them down all because they stood against Ulfric."

"Why even bother joining the Stormcloaks if your loyalty isn't with us? How can I expect to trust you to defend the men fighting beside you after this?"

Einarr narrowed his eyes and got right up in Galmar's face. "You're right, I _don't_ believe in your cause. Sure, I believe in Talos and want nothing more than to see the Thalmor thrown out of Skyrim, but you're as mad as Sheogorath if you think I believe Ulfric should be High King. I'll help you with this war, but come time for the moot, if I should have the opportunity to speak there, I'll do everything in my power to make sure he never rules."

Galmar's ice-blue eyes burned angrily as he glared at Einarr. "You realize every word out of your mouth can have you killed for treason, right?"

"You can't kill me. I saved Skyrim and all of Tamriel from Alduin, so you need me to gain support from the people, since my sister is still considered dead. And even if you do kill me, you can be damned sure that the remaining Dragonborn will drop her support of Ulfric right away. It doesn't matter that they share blood; I am Lassarina's _true _brother, her _real _family. The fact of the matter is that _we're _using _you _to get her children back and get rid of the one last threat to us."

Galmar growled and bared his teeth. "I may not be able to have you killed, but I _can _punish you for your insubordination. I'm leaving a small splinter of Stormcloaks here in Whiterun Hold until we're ready to advance on Falkreath. You're to remain here until then. You're of no use to us back in Windhelm, so you'll remain on the front lines until this war is over."

Einarr's clenched his fists in anger and restrained himself from taking a swing at the man in front of him. "You can't do that! My daughter's back in Windhelm!"

"Aye, and she's perfectly safe there. There's no reason for you to go back. You're of better use out on the field, giving the Stormcloak soldiers some hope." Galmar turned away from Einarr and looked over at Assa, who was standing near the large doors that led back into the keep. "Assa, you're in command of Whiterun until I can send one of my captains. I need to be getting back to Windhelm to report to Ulfric. We'll send word when it's time to attack Falkreath."

"Aye, General Stone-Fist," she murmured with a nod.

Galmar flashed Einarr a dirty look. "See that? _That _is a loyal soldier."

Einarr stood frozen in place, his whole body practically trembling with rage. Because he couldn't lift a sword against the people of his city, he was being punished unfairly. He wouldn't be allowed to see his daughter until this war was over. He could barely go more than a couple of days without seeing Kiraya, and gods know how much longer this war would last. It could very well be years until he saw her again.

When he heard the door close behind him, indicating Galmar had left, he stalked over to the table at the end of the great porch, grabbing one of the heavy wooden chairs and throwing it against one of the walls. The wood shattered and splintered upon impact, and he started slamming his fist into the table top, splitting open his knuckles just to vent his anger out on something. He was all too aware of Assa standing behind him, since her scent was starting to surround him, making it clear she was walking closer.

"Einarr," she spoke his name softly. "I'm so sorry."

"I don't want to hear it!" he snapped over his shoulder. "I don't need your sympathy or your pity!"

She gasped, and he looked over his shoulder to see pain and sadness flood her gray eyes. He felt instantly ashamed for having snapped at her, but his anger was too close to the surface to apologize just yet.

"Just leave me be," he growled, turning away.

"Fine," she said, her voice cracking a bit.

He listened to her footsteps retreat away from him and then heard the doors open and close. It was only a few moments later when all was completely silent that Einarr broke another chair and howled angrily. Tonight was definitely a night for a hunt.

* * *

><p><em>How are you, the readers, feeling about Einarr and Assa? I already have someone shipping them and has dubbed them as Essa! Next chapter Einarr will be struggling about being apart from his daughter for the remainder of the war and Whiterun gets an unexpected visitor.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	17. Chapter 17

_So I'm going to take this chance to announce that I'll be going on a short hiatus. I've just been in the worst kind of writers funk these past couple of weeks and it's been a struggle to get my chapters out for you all on time. I need some time for myself to just clear my mind and keep myself from stressing. I feel like if I keep writing in this funk, I won't put my best effort into any of my chapters and I don't want to give you half-assed chapters. It's not fair to you. Now, don't worry, it won't be a long hiatus, maybe just a week or two. I promise when I come back I'll be giving you awesome updates._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Waking the Demon by Bullet for my Valentine, Perfect by P!NK_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Seventeen<strong>**

****(16********th******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

The last thing Einarr wanted to see when he stepped from the Underforge in his werewolf form was the peaceful night sky above him. It made it feel like a horrible tragedy didn't happen at all today, that the world continued living. Infuriated, he unleashed a long, rage-filled howl at the two moons and dropped to all fours so he could run and hunt. Right now it felt like it would be the only thing that could possibly help him feel better. He wanted to tear his claws into any manner of beast and watch the blood pour from its throat after he tore it out.

Aela had been able to sense his anger and distress long before he even returned to Jorrvaskr and had offered to come with him, but he had denied her with merely a look. She may be the older wolf and his forebear, but Einarr was their pack leader and she knew better than to argue with him when he was in this kind of mood. He needed to be alone right now so he could vent all this anger inside him before he hurt someone he cared about.

_Like you hurt Assa? _his conscience pointed out cruelly.

_Be quiet! _snapped a primal, more aggressive part of Einarr-his werewolf part. _Right now we do not think! We do not feel! We hunt!_

Einarr wanted to give all of himself to the beast in that moment, but he knew better than that. If he completely surrendered to that part of himself, he'd never be the Einarr everyone knew again. He's just be a mindless werewolf who had forgotten he was once human.

So instead he ran through the Whiterun plains in search of a herd of elk or deer that might have wandered into the area. It was highly doubtful that he'd find any prey, since all the noise and fighting from the battle would have driven away any nearby herd. The fields to the north would probably provide more game since the armies left it virtually untouched. As he loped through the tall grass, he tasted the air with his tongue, trying to pick up on the scent of prey. The smell of humans and smoke was most dominant, but underneath all of that he could pick up the faint trace of deer.

With a trail to follow, Einarr tracked his prey through the plains, completely absorbed with his task to hunt the animal down. He paid absolutely no attention to the world around him, not that he needed to. Any wolves he came across would know better than to challenge him just from his scent, and hopefully the same would apply to the sabre cats. When he finally found the deer, it was drinking from a small pool of water, unaware of the danger nearby. He crept low to the ground, his whole body poised to pounce and take it down, when a twig snapped and startled the deer. He snarled angrily as he watched it dash away and looked around for whatever it was that scared his prey away.

The last thing he had expected was a patrol of Stormcloak soldiers. And he _definitely _wasn't expecting to see Assa at the head of them with a fully drawn bow in her hands.

"Sweet Talos, that's a werewolf!" one of the soldiers behind them exclaimed.

"I've got it!" Assa shouted, releasing her arrow.

Einarr tried to dodge the arrow, but he wasn't quick enough and it pierced his shoulder, causing him to howl in pain. Without even thinking, he sprung at Assa, tackling her to the ground while the soldiers behind her shouted in alarm. In those seconds, he bared his teeth at her and gave her a good look at his lupine face: his elongated snout, his sharp teeth, the ragged scar that ran across the left side of his face.

_Does she recognize me? w_ondered a part of his mind that stirred up a flurry of emotions deep inside him. Emotions he couldn't recognize.

Then Einarr's gaze met hers for a fleeting moment, but it felt much longer. He saw fear in her gray eyes, but he also saw defiance and awe. She looked as if she were amazed at just the sight of him. But also. . .

_She's afraid of me?_

_ Of course she is, you idiot! _his common sense snapped. _Just look at her! _

If the look of terror didn't confirm it, the stench of her fear he tasted on his tongue did. She was terrified of him without knowing that he wouldn't even dare harm her. So with a regretful whimper, he got off her and sprinted away into the grass, heading away from Whiterun and mapping out a long path he could take home.

He could hear the Stormcloaks in pursuit of him, and normally Einarr would be able to easily outrun them, but the arrow still embedded in his shoulder was causing him to limp and run more slowly. But despite the pain he was in, he continued to run through the grass, willing the darkness of night to help him lose his pursuers.

_At least they aren't Silver Hand, _Einarr thought to himself.

He ran a few miles north of Whitewatch Tower before he doubled back and reached the safety of the Underforge tunnels. He let out a pained whine when he finally let his inner wolf rest and began to change back to his human form. It didn't matter how long Einarr had been a werewolf, because changing always caused him great pain. Feeling his bones break and his body reshape itself was an excruciating process that he hoped to never get used to.

When the transformation was finished, Einarr lay exhausted on a bed of fur that had shed from him when he was changing back, trying to readjust to his regular, more familiar body. He ached all over, but the pain caused by the arrow in his shoulder was starting to escalate even more. He got a quick look at the injury and breathed out a sigh of relief when he saw that it was a through-and-through, though it was still bleeding badly and required immediate attention. So with a pained grunt, he forced himself to his feet and clutched at his wound with one hand to keep pressure on it while he slipped on his trousers and then stumbled up the tunnel to the Underforge.

By the time he reached the small chamber with the stone basin in the center, Einarr was beginning to feel light-headed and was forced to stop and brace himself against the wall so he could catch his breath. He knew he had lost quite a bit of blood and needed to lie down and rest, but if he passed out in the Underforge, no one would find him until morning and he might have bled out by then. So when the entrance to the Underforge opened and Aela walked inside, he sent a thousand thanks to the gods.

"Hircine's balls, what happened to you?" she demanded when she saw him.

"What it does look like?" he growled. "I got shot by an arrow! Instead of gawking, why don't you help me? I've lost a lot of blood, Aela!"

She let out an annoyed growl and walked over to him, curling her lip at the sight of the arrow in his shoulder. "I was fast asleep and then you had to go and wake me by getting yourself hurt."

"Aye, because I completely planned for this to happen."

"Your sarcasm isn't needed."

He heard her snap the end of the arrow off, and then without a moment's hesitation, she swiftly yanked the shaft the rest of the way through, causing Einarr to let out a cry of pain.

"Gods, woman! Do you enjoy causing me pain?"

"Only when my sleep is interrupted," she chuckled, tossing the broken arrow to the ground and applying pressure to his steadily bleeding wound. "All right, we need to get you inside and sew this shut."

Aela let Einarr lean against her as she helped him into Jorrvaskr and downstairs to his bedroom. He practically collapsed on the soft mattress and couldn't keep his eyes open as his shield-sister rummaged around his nightstand for a sewing needle and a spool of sinew. When she found what she needed, the mattress sank under her weight as she sat beside him and forced him to sit up so she could get to work.

"You know, I think we take Avyanna and Lassarina's healing for granted," she murmured as she poured a bit of brandy onto the wound to disinfect it.

Einarr let out a pained hiss and gritted his teeth together. "Aye . . . I forgot how much that burns."

"I'll be quick; just sit still."

He did as she asked and tried to remain perfectly still while she applied the stitches needed to close up his wound. She was just finishing up when the door was pushed open a bit and a sleepy Randulf walked inside.

"Randulf, what are you doing out of bed?" Aela chastised her son.

The boy rubbed his eyes sleepily and hugged the stuffed wolf Kiraya had bought him when he was still an infant. "I had a bad dream."

"Just go back to bed and I'll be there soon, all right, pup?"

"I don't want to sleep there. I wanna sleep in here."

Aela frowned and was about to protest, but Einarr held up a hand and smiled at her. "It's fine, let the lad sleep in here tonight. The last time Kiraya crawled into bed with me after a nightmare was years ago."

"Well, if you're sure it's all right," Aela sighed as she put in the final stitch. "There, you're all patched up now. Just get some rest." She looked at her son and added, "both of you."

"Aye, Mama," Randulf nodded as he crawled onto Einarr's bed and snuggled up under the blanket.

"We'll see you in the morning, then," Einarr told her.

Aela shut the bedroom door and Einarr lay on the bed beside Randulf, who didn't look tired anymore and was staring at his shoulder wound with curiosity in his moss-green eyes.

"What happened?" Randulf asked after a couple of moments.

He wanted to spare the lad the details and answered with a simple, "I got hurt when I was hunting. I need to remember to be more careful."

"Mama good at hunting."

"Aye, she is, but she's also very strict, so you'd better get to sleep, pup."

"Okay."

Einarr smiled as he watched little Randulf fall asleep, secretly wishing that he had more children. It was one of the greatest joys of his life: caring for Kiraya, his niece and nephew, even Aela and Avyanna's children. He had always wanted a big family, even when he was a young adolescent dreaming about his future. His plan had always been to marry a girl he loved and have several children to raise, but unfortunately it never worked out that way. He was thankful he had Kiraya, though, and found some solace in helping his new family with their own children. He might never father any more children himself, but he could at least be a good uncle to his sister's twins and to Aela and Avyanna's boys.

He hadn't even been aware that he had drifted off to sleep until he felt a sharp kick connect with his stomach, making him grunt and open his eyes. Randulf was tossing and turning uncomfortably while his face was tense, hinting that the boy was having a nightmare. Einarr sighed and sat up, rubbing the boy's back soothingly to try and calm him down. It was a regular thing with Randulf lately-suffering from nightmares nearly every night-but there wasn't really anything that he or Aela could do about it. Because Randulf was born of two werewolf parents, he already had the beast blood coursing through his veins and would be plagued with nightmares and restless sleep for the rest of his life.

"Rest easy now, lad," Einarr murmured softly. "Nothing in your dreams can hurt you."

"He'll adjust to the drawbacks of the beast blood with time," said a voice that surprised and shocked Einarr.

He looked around his dark room in disbelief, trying to find the source of the long-unheard voice before he finally appeared. Einarr's mouth opened and he stared at the ghostly figure, not really believing what he was actually seeing. It had been nearly four years since he'd last spoken to his old friend, and the last time he saw him, he was lying dead in a room full of the Silver Hand.

"Skjor?" Einarr gasped. "Is that really you?"

"Aye, it's me," Skjor's spirit answered. "But let's hold off on the pleasantries for a moment so I can get a good look at my son."

Without needing to be asked, Einarr shifted the fur blanket so the ghostly apparition of Skjor could get a better look at his sleeping child. Skjor lay his transparent hand on Randulf's head, and to Einarr's shock, the three-year-old stopped tossing and turning and the tension of his face faded away.

"He looks like me," Skjor sighed. "I made the nightmare go away. For now, at least."

"You said he'll adjust in time?" Einarr asked.

"Aye, he was born with the blood so his wolf spirit is the dominant part of his soul. He's only struggling with it now because he's more aware of the blood in his veins. He'll adjust, but keep in mind, Aela's got some tough times ahead of her. He'll be a nightmare when he becomes a teenager."

"Well, I'll be there to help her."

"Aye . . . thank you for being there for her."

"You would have done the same if it had been me in a similar situation." He paused and looked up seriously at Skjor's ghost. "But why have you come back now, Skjor? Does Hircine want something from us?"

"Nay, Hircine doesn't even know I'm here. I had to sneak away, so I can't be here for much longer. But I had to come and tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"When Lassarina and Vilkas's children were taken and Tilma was killed by the Thalmor, someone helped them get inside the city walls. You were betrayed by someone living here in Whiterun. Someone who conspires with the Thalmor still and is relaying information about you and your sister back to them."

Einarr's eyes widened and his whole body went stiff from the anger that suddenly sparked within him. After all he'd done for Whiterun and its people, someone dared sneak around and stab him in the back. Baring his teeth, he growled dangerously and urged Skjor to continue. "Tell me who it was. Now."

"He works alone and has been no friend to you or your family. Olfrid Battle-Born is responsible for the twins' abduction that night," Skjor told him grimly. "I know Kodlak told you not to allow yourself to be consumed by vengeance, but we were pack-brothers and you had the right to know. Now, you have the right to do what you will with the information I have given you."

"Thank you, Skjor. This is bad news, but now that I know, I can take the steps necessary to prevent the Thalmor from getting the upper hand against my family.

Skjor nodded and began to fade. "I must go now. I am being called back to the hunt."

"Aela misses you, Skjor. She wishes you could have lived to raise your son together."

"I will see Aela again when the hunt calls to her, but until then, I trust you to take care of her and our son in my stead. I will see you again, brother, when the hunt calls for you."

Skjor's spirit disappeared with only a faint trace of his scent lingering in the air. Einarr wished he could have woken Aela to see her long-dead mate, but there wouldn't have been enough time. Skjor could only risk enough time to give Einarr that vital piece of information, and for that he was grateful. Now all he had to do was figure out what to do about Olfrid.

**oOo**

"Look, it's the half-breed freak!"

Kiraya let out a hiss of surprise when a snowball hit her directly on the head. She wiped the cold slush off the hood of her cloak and glared at the group of teenagers who stood a few feet away. They were the children of Stormcloak soldiers who had been raised by their ignorant parents to be just as racist as they were and had targeted Kiraya only a few days before.

She had been showing Sofie how to use a bow when a strong gust of wind blew her hood off and revealed her mixed features to everyone around. She got stares, heard crude comments, and then saw the group that was currently tormenting her, eying her like a piece of meat. They hadn't left her alone for days, constantly calling her names and trying to pick a fight with her. Sofie had suggested informing Thorolf about what was happening, but Kiraya's stubborn attitude rejected the thought. She would deal with this herself.

"Ohh, look out, she's glaring at us,"said their ring leader, a fifteen-year-old boy by the name of Njorlund.

"She should have a little respect for people who are better than her," sneered Njorlund's girlfriend, Tillrani.

The third member of their little gang, Vikalar, grinned at Tillrani and added, "You're right, even those gray-skins in the slums know more respect than she does."

"Why don't the three of you just sod off?" Kiraya hissed at them.

"Looks like the little cat has claws," Njorlund chuckled as he walked over until he was right in front of her, looking down his nose at her. "Maybe we should teach her she shouldn't talk back to a Nord."

Kiraya shoved him back, baring her teeth at him. "I _am _a Nord, you ice-brain!"

"Nay, you're _half _Nord," Vikalar corrected her, stepping up and shoving Kiraya right back. "The question is, was it your da or your mother that got confused and fucked a rug?"

"It was her da," Tillrani giggled, getting right up in Kiraya's face. "He's in the Stormcloak army. My father told me he married some Khajiiti whore."

"My mother was not a whore!" Kiraya snarled, finally snapping and slashing her sharp nails across Tillrani's face.

The Nord girl shrieked in pain and began crying as she covered her face with one hand. Kiraya thought that Tillrani was just over-exaggerating, but then she saw the blood seeping out from between the girls fingers and bit back a gasp of shock. She hadn't meant to actually injure Tillrani and reached out to try and help her, but Njorlund stopped her by grabbing the collar of her leather jerkin and roughly shoving her against a nearby wall.

"You're going to regret that, half-breed," he spat in her face.

"She's ruined my face!" Tillrani sobbed. "Kill her, Njorlund!"

Kiraya couldn't resist retorting back, "It was already ruined, you bi–"

She was cut off when Njorlund punched her in the stomach and made her cry out in pain. The blow was hard enough to knock the breath out of her and bring her to her knees. Kiraya prayed that the one punch would be the end of it but then Vikalar stepped forward and back-handed her, sending her sprawling on the ground.

"Let's mess her face up more than it already is," Vikalar suggested. "It won't matter if she's uglier than she is now."

"Sounds good to me," Njorlund laughed as he delivered a sharp kick to her ribs.

Both boys started kicking her repeatedly, never letting up for a second. Kiraya kept trying to stand up and run away, but they'd always just knock her back down and continue beating her. Finally when she was about to start crying and beg for mercy, she heard a voice call out to them nearby.

"Hey, what are you kids doing?"

Njorlund stopped his kicking for a moment to look at the intruder. "It doesn't concern you, gray-skin. Just walk away unless you want to get beaten with her."

"I'm not just going to leave while you continue to viciously beat a child! Now leave her alone before I call the guards!"

Kiraya partially uncovered her head and snuck a peek at what was transpiring around her. A Dunmer man was glaring down at both Nord boys, but he kept flashing quick glances at her to check if she was all right. The staring contest continued for several moments before Njorlund finally scoffed and walked away, urging Tillrani and Vikalar to follow him. Once they were gone, Kiraya let her arms fall to the ground and let out an anguished cry of pain.

"It's okay, I've got ya," the Dunmer man told her, dropping to his knees and gently helping her into a sitting position. "Just take it easy. Take slow, steady breaths."

But slow steady breaths weren't even remotely possible at the moment. Kiraya was crying too hard, now that her bullies were gone, and every breath she took in was like another painful kick to the ribs.

"I know you're in pain, but Naril will have you fixed up in no time," the Dunmer continued, speaking to her in a deep, soothing voice.

Kiraya let out a strangled gasped when a light-gray hand reached out for her shoulder and lit up in a brilliant golden light that washed over her and numbed the ache in her body. All the pain went away in a few blissful moments and she let out a relieved sigh.

"That should have fixed up any fractures to your bones they might have caused, but you're still going to have a couple of bruises and you'll have to keep an eye on that split in your lip."

She gently touched the scabbed-over split in her lip, and her tongue instinctively shot out to lick some of the blood that stained it. Only when she trusted herself to breathe without feeling agonizing pain did she finally look up at the Dunmer man who saved her. He was younger than any Dunmer she'd ever seen before, with light-gray skin and deep red eyes. His face was sharp and angular like many of his race, framed by shoulder length black hair, and he was exceedingly handsome. If Kiraya hadn't just suffered a beating, she knew she would be blushing madly.

"Thank you for helping me," she told him finally, her voice rasping slightly.

"Those three are a bunch of bullies, ganging up on someone just because they look different," he spat. "I would have done the same for anyone else who was being terrorized by them. Are you feeling better?"

"Aye, thank you for healing me."

"No problem. My name is Naril, by the way, and can I just say I've never seen a girl quite like you before."

Kiraya immediately stiffened, ready to hear some sort of uncomfortable comment, but Naril surprised her by saying, "There should be more half-Nord, half-Khajiit people on Nirn if they look half as interesting as you do. You're probably going to be quite the fighter in the future-fierce _and _agile."

Kiraya blushed a bit and giggled. "Well, I have to say that's the first time anyone has ever said something that wasn't awkward or slightly insulting."

Naril chuckled and flashed her a kind smile. "Tamriel is already chaotic enough without people thinking races should be divided. Just cause you're a mixture of races doesn't make you inferior in any way–uhm, what's your name?"

"Kiraya."

"Pretty face _and_ a pretty name. I can only imagine how stunning you'll look when you're all grown up and don't have any bruises on your face."

Once again, Kiraya blushed and was at a loss for words. Not only was he a hero for saving her, but he was a shameless flatterer. She never experienced anything quite like this, being complimented and having someone tell her she was pretty. It was odd and unfamiliar, but she didn't mind experiencing it.

"So, do you want me to escort you back to your home in case those three are waiting for you?" Naril asked, helping her to her feet.

Kiraya quickly shook her head. "Nay, I'll be fine. I'm staying somewhere nearby."

"Well, if you ever need me to help you out of another tough situation like that, you can find me at the cornerclub in the Gray District."

"Oh, okay."

Naril nodded and patted her head before turning away and walking back up the street where he first appeared. Once he reached the end, he glanced over his shoulder and waved at her.

"See you soon, Kiraya."

"Bye, Naril, and thank you again!"

Once he turned the corner, Kiraya let out the breath she'd been holding and slumped against the wall. Her face was burning from her blush, her heart was racing, and all she could think about was seeing Naril again soon.

Maybe Windhelm wasn't so bad after all.

* * *

><p><em>Uh-oh... Looks like Kiraya is developing a new crush... But what about Rohan? Not to mention Einarr's just learned that there's a Thalmor spy in Whiterun! Olfrid is the whole reason for the twins disappearing and for Tilma dying! Lassarina's going to be pissed once she finds out!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	18. Chapter 18

_Guess who's back? Back again? Mirage is back!_

_Lol, I really needed that break guys. It gave me a chance to just sit back and relax for a couple of weeks and not have to worry about updates. Now, don't get too excited because I'm only going to be able to get out maybe two or three chapters this month because the first week of June I will be flying down to Miami for a week to see my family and celebrate my great-grandmother's 91st birthday!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Smooth Criminal by Michael Jackson_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Eighteen<strong>**

****(19********th******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

"Einarr, look at me jump!" Randulf shouted.

Einarr quickly glanced over at the lad in time to see him jump from one of the benches around the Gildergreen and land on the ground three feet away. "That was really good, Randulf, but aren't you supposed to be looking for Lucia?"

"Lucia over there!" he explained, pointing over at the bush by Heimskr's little house.

The young Imperial girl walked out from behind it and pouted. "No fair, how did he know I was hiding here?"

"I smelled you."

Einarr immediately flinched and scooped Randulf up off the ground, holding him close to prevent him from saying more. "He must have peeked while he was counting, Lucia." Lowering his voice a bit, he told Randulf. "You can't talk about that to other people, lad. Remember? It's a secret!"

Randulf nodded and covered his mouth with his tiny hands. "Aye, secret."

Einarr smiled at him and ruffled the boy's hair a bit before putting him down. "Okay, now you go hide while Lucia counts. Just stay where I can see you."

Randulf ran over to Lucia to continue their little game of hide-and-seek, allowing Einarr to continue with what he had been doing before, which was watching Olfrid walk around the market below. Ever since he had learned that the patriarch of the Battle-Born clan had betrayed Einarr and his family, he'd spent every day just watching him. He really wanted to break into the man's house to find any evidence, but he was no thief like his sister was and would no doubt get caught right away.

_I need to send a letter to Riften and ask her to come or send one of her thieves, _he thought to himself.

He was so absorbed in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the sound of footsteps approaching him.

"Einarr?"

He didn't expect to be so startled by the sound of Assa's voice, but the last time he saw her he had been in his wolf form and she was pinned to the ground after shooting him with an arrow. However, she had no idea that he had been the werewolf who had leapt at her, so in her mind, the last time they saw each other was when he snapped and shouted at her to leave him alone. Einarr had to force himself to act calm and possibly apologize for his harsh words.

"Assa," he nodded to her respectfully. "It's good to see you."

She forced a smile and nodded. "Aye, it's been a couple of days."

"I've been trying to keep myself preoccupied in Jorrvaskr. Aela knows the duties the Harbinger must perform, but she's been having a tough time getting used to it. Also–"

He was cut off by an excited scream and glanced over to see Randulf running straight at him with Lucia chasing him. The young lad wrapped his arms around one of Einarr's legs and tried to hide behind him.

"Einarr, hide!" Randulf laughed.

Einarr chuckled and picked Randulf up. "Nay, Lucia found you, fair and square."

Assa's eyes brightened at the sight of Randulf and she leaned forward, smiling at the boy. "And who's this?"

Randulf turned his curious moss-green gaze to the strange woman in front of him and said, "I Randulf."

"This is Aela's son," Einarr explained. "He's missed me since I've been gone, so I offered to watch him for a while."

"He's a handsome little lad," Assa chuckled. She saw Lucia walking over hesitantly and smiled at the young girl. "You're the little girl Einarr saved, aren't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Lucia nodded.

Einarr put Randulf down and looked at the orphaned girl. "Lucia, why don't you take Randulf back to Jorrvaskr? I'm sure you both must be hungry by now. If you ask nicely, Rona will fix you up something to eat."

Lucia nodded and took Randulf's hand in her own as she led him away. It would be a lot easier for Einarr to talk to Assa now that he didn't have two children to watch over. Rubbing the back of his neck, he looked her over quickly. She wasn't wearing her Stormcloak uniform, which meant she wasn't here on any war business, and looked quite comfortable in her trousers and leather jerkin. But then his eyes fell on her bandaged bicep.

"What happened there?" he asked her. "I didn't think you were injured during the siege."

She glanced at her bandaged wound and shook her head. "Nay, this wasn't in battle. I took out a patrol after the battle and we ran into some trouble in the plains north of here."

Einarr stiffened a bit and swallowed the lump in his throat. "What kind of trouble?"

"You're not going to believe me when I tell you, but there was a werewolf out in the plains! My patrol came right up behind it!"

"Really?"

"Aye, I had never seen one before that night, mind you. I managed to shoot it in the shoulder, before it jumped on me. That's how I got this wound, damn beasts claws got me."

Einarr's eyes widened a bit and he unintentionally looked down at his own hands. _I hurt her? But . . . I thought I had been careful not to injure her._

"I had a werewolf pin me to the ground and came out of it with only a scratch," Assa continued, not even seeing the shock that took over Einarr. "I must be the luckiest person on Nirn right now."

"Aye," Einarr agreed. "You must have been terrified, though."

"I was. When that creature had me pinned to the ground, I thought that was it, that I was going to die. I thought Sofie would be an orphan again. If I had died, I would have felt so guilty for leaving her without anyone to take care of her. I'm still in shock that it let me go."

"Well, werewolves _are _just humans cursed by Hircine. It probably didn't want to hurt you, probably just wanted to be left alone."

Assa crossed her arms and sighed. "Aye, maybe. When it was standing over me, I looked into its eyes for a brief moment . . . it looked so sad and guilty. Part of me is glad it got away. Even if it was dangerous, it was still amazing to look at. It was taller than an Altmer and had thick brown fur, oh, and its eyes were simply breathtaking. I've never seen a blue quite like that before."

Einarr immediately looked toward the market when she said that, hoping she'd avoid looking at his eyes and possibly make a safe assumption. He just looked at all the people he knew and befriended over the years, mulling around the market, gossiping or exchanging pleasantries. He met Ysolda's gaze for a brief moment and she waved at him. He waved back and groaned when she took that as a sign to come over.

Assa had followed his gaze and could clearly see Ysolda approaching. "Know her?"

"Aye," Einarr answered with a sigh. "A little too well, unfortunately." But he forced a smile when Ysolda reached him. "Ysolda, it's good to see you."

He was surprised when she threw her arms around him and hugged him for a long moment. "Einarr, I'm so glad you're back. I've missed you so much."

Einarr forced himself to resist, letting out an annoyed growl and gently pushed Ysolda away. "I thought we talked about this."

Ysolda frowned and looked at him desperately. "Yes, I know we had a silly fight, but we can work past it, right?"

"Ysolda . . . look, the thing is–"

Assa stepped in at that moment and placed a hand on Einarr's shoulder. "Hello, Ysolda, was it?"

Ysolda glared at Assa and then asked, "Einarr, who in Oblivion is this?"

Einarr shifted uncomfortably and said, "Ysolda, this is Assa, Thane of Windhelm and my friend."

Assa giggled. "Einarr, I thought we were a little more than friends."

_What in Oblivion is this woman doing? _Einarr wondered to himself.

"So, Ysolda, how do you and Einarr know each other?" Assa asked looking directly at her.

Ysolda didn't answer Assa, choosing to glower at her, right before she turned her hateful gaze to Einarr and slapped him without rhyme or reason. He was still clutching his cheek as he watched her stomp away from them, her whole body tense with rage. Once she was gone, Assa laughed a bit and turned to him, wincing at the sight of his reddened cheek.

"Oh, I'm so sorry that happened," she groaned, biting down on her lip.

Einarr shook his head and headed to one of the benches around the Gildergreen, sitting down and rubbing his sore cheek. "What was that all about? Ysolda looked like she wanted to geld me!"

"Well, it looked clear to me that you didn't want her clinging to you," she explained, following him and reaching out for his face. "Now, let me take a look at her handiwork."

Her fingertips were cool against where Ysolda had struck him, and the gentle, pleasant touch caused him to close his eyes. "You made it sound like we were in a relationship."

"She had the air of a woman desperate for companionship. You were stupid enough to bed her, but at least now I saved you from her pestering you."

Einarr thought he heard a bit of anger and annoyance behind that last remark. "I didn't know she would be so clingy."

"Well, this handprint on your face is proof that she is. How did you wind up with a girl like her anyway?"

Her cool fingertips disappeared and he sensed her sit down beside him. Sighing heavily, he explained to her how after his sister's "death," he had been going through a bit of a rough patch and no amount of alcohol could ease the mind-numbing depression that came with the loss of his sister. Einarr told her how Ysolda had offered to comfort him and how he was so quick to accept it.

"I just wanted to lose myself for a little bit," he explained. "Ysolda offered me a way to do that, and I foolishly took advantage of it."

"She seemed to like you very much from the look in her eye," Assa commented dryly.

"Ysolda has had feelings for me for a few years now. I knew she wanted more than just sex from me, but that's all I was willing to give and all I wanted from her." He sighed and opened his eyes. "You must not think too highly of me anymore now, do you?"

He was surprised to see her looking away from him, her eyes lit up angrily and her nostrils flaring slightly. "Well, you _are _a man. Why wouldn't you think the same as the rest and only want women for what they can give you?"

Insulted, Einarr glared at her and growled, "What right do you have to say that about me? You don't know me well enough to make that assumption, Assa."

"Well, I just thought that the Dragonborn would be different from most men."

_What is wrong with this woman? _Einarr thought to himself. _Did she come over just to criticize me?_

Scoffing, Einarr stood up and looked down at Assa. "I don't need to be accused of anything right now. I appreciate you getting Ysolda to leave me alone, and I'll see you when we receive our orders."

Assa's eyes widened and she stood up. "Einarr, wait."

But he didn't turn back to look at her, choosing to just ignore her and stomp back to Jorrvaskr angrily, muttering to himself every step of the way. When he reached the mead hall, he slammed the door shut behind him and leaned against the wood.

"What's got you so riled up?" asked an unexpected voice.

Einarr gasped and looked over to the long table to see his sister sitting in her usual chair, with Vilkas beside her and, to his joy, Faolan on her lap. A smile spread across his face as he walked over to them and immediately picked his nephew up, hugging him close.

"I can't believe how relieving it is to see him," he told Lassarina. But then he frowned and asked, "But is it safe for him to be here?"

"Don't even bother," Finverior sighed, walking out of the kitchen with a bottle of wine in his hand. "She refuses to let the kid out of her sight, even though he'd be a lot safer back at Riften with the Guild."

Lassarina scowled at her Bosmer friend. "There's no place safer for Faolan than with me and Vilkas."

That's when Einarr got a first good look at his sister. Whatever illusion magic that she been using before was now gone, so she look like her real self, but that self also looked like a complete wreck. The dark circles around her eyes showed that she wasn't getting any rest and there were lines around her mouth and forehead that he'd never seen before. His little sister looked like she had aged ten years since the last time he saw her and he didn't like it one bit. And from the look on Vilkas's face, he could tell her husband wasn't too pleased either.

Vilkas looked just as exhausted as Lassarina, but there was also a tremendous amount of worry in his eyes. He knew some of that concern had to be for Lyanna, who was still missing, but he noticed his brother-in-law's eyes darken every time he glanced at Lassarina. Once Einarr got a moment alone with Vilkas, he'd have to ask him how his sister was doing, because gods knew Lassarina wouldn't willingly tell him what was wrong.

"Why are you in Whiterun?" he asked his sister.

"We found out that Ulfric was attacking the city when Ria and Erendriel showed up in Riften," Vilkas explained. "We hadn't planned on coming, but then Lassarina found something while going through Maven's belongings."

Lassarina had already reached into her pouch and pulled out a letter with a broken wax seal. She wordlessly handed it to Einarr, who passed Faolan over to Vilkas so he could read the contents. It was a letter to Maven Black-Briar from–

"Olfrid Battle-Born," he read out loud, not even the slightest bit fazed. He read the short letter quickly, learning that Olfrid tried to warn Maven about Lassarina's reappearance in Whiterun and expressing concern that their parts in her and the twins abduction might be discovered before he tossed it onto the table with a shrug. "I already knew Olfrid was working for the Thalmor."

Lassarina's eyes widened. "What? How?"

He quickly looked around to make sure Aela wasn't around before answering, "Skjor's spirit came to me the night we took Whiterun and told me how Olfrid had arranged to have the twins taken. I didn't want to do anything about it until I had proof it was true, but now I don't have to since you brought the proof to me."

"So now it's just a question of how we deal with Olfrid," Vilkas said, rocking Faolan a bit when he started to get fussy.

"We'll figure something out," Einarr assured him while looking at his sister, who appeared to be deep in thought. "Lassarina, are you all right?"

Lassarina blinked and looked up at him, nodding tersely. "Aye, I'm fine. But I think I'll head downstairs and rest for a little bit." She got up and held her hands out to take Faolan. "He needs a nap anyway."

"How's Faolan doing?"

"He didn't come to any harm while the Thalmor had him, but he's been misbehaving since we got him back," his sister told him, taking her son from her husband and cradling his head against her shoulder. "Vilkas and I think Lyanna's absence is affecting him. He'll randomly start crying or throw a tantrum and he doesn't sleep well at night, all because he wants to see her."

"Twins share a close bond, love," Vilkas told her. "We'll have plenty of time to catch up with everyone later, but for now I think we all need some rest."

"Aye, I agree," Einarr commented. "You both look like shit."

The couple ignored his small jibe and headed downstairs to the sleeping quarters, since they couldn't very well stay in their own home without attracting unwanted attention. Sighing heavily, Einarr sat down at the table and Finverior wordlessly took a seat beside him. He stared at the Bosmer for a long moment before smirking at him.

"What's with the grin, Einarr?" Finverior asked from behind the rim of his glass.

"So you got married?" Einarr chuckled.

Finverior rolled his eyes and nodded. "Yes, I did. Can we please be mature about this?"

"Mature? Now that just doesn't sound like the Finverior way." He laughed and then playfully smacked Finn's shoulder. "So tell me, is it that mage you're always going to visit in Winterhold?"

"His name is Onmund, and yes, he's who I married. He's back at the college now, though, while I help Lassarina get Lyanna back."

"I just can't believe the promiscuous Finverior has finally decided to settle down. Next thing you know, you'll have a kid." Einarr paused and corrected himself, "Or rather, _another _kid."

Finverior snorted and took a long sip of his wine. "Nah, I don't think I'm meant to have kids."

At that moment, Lucia ran in from downstairs with some taffy in her hands and an excited look in her eyes. "Einarr, look at what Rona made for me and Randulf!"

Einarr smiled at the girl and looked at the taffy, impressed. "Wow, that looks really good."

The young girl noticed Finverior at that moment and asked, "Who are you?"

The Bosmer smiled at the girl and replied, "Name's Finverior, sweetie, but you can call me Finn."

Lucia stared at him for a moment before she smiled and tore off a piece of taffy, holding it out in front of him. "Do you want some?"

Finverior's eyes widened in surprise for a moment, but then they quickly warmed and he gratefully took the piece of candy from her. Lucia was kind enough to give some to Einarr too before she decided to head outside to play. Once she was gone, he grinned at Finverior, who had watched the girl leave, his eyes still bright and warm.

"So, no kids?" he asked the Bosmer.

Finverior glared at him and tossed the taffy into his mouth. "Shut up, pretty boy."

**oOo**

It was late and he'd been asleep for more than a few hours when Vilkas felt the bed shift under him and rouse him from the first restful sleep he'd had in weeks. At first he assumed Faolan had come across the hall from where he'd been napping with Randulf, but instead he saw Lassarina sitting at the edge of the bed, pulling off the gloves of her Nightingale armor before tugging off her boots.

_She wasn't wearing that when we fell asleep, _he thought to himself.

"Did you go out?" he asked her groggily.

Lassarina gasped and turned to look at him. "Vilkas . . . I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

He shook his head and sat up in the bed. "I shouldn't have slept so long anyway."

"You needed it. You haven't been sleeping well lately."

"Neither have you. So, are you going to tell me why you're in you armor?"

She turned away and continued to take it all off. "I needed some fresh air, but I didn't want to risk anyone seeing me."

Vilkas stared at her for a long moment, thinking she seemed a bit tense, but he nodded and reached for her, helping her undo the laces of her armor. Once she had shed every bit of the black leather, she crawled further onto the bed and flopped down onto the mattress with a weary sigh. Frowning, he pulled her into his arms and wordlessly encouraged her to lay on his chest.

"Did you check on Faolan?" he asked her.

Lassarina hummed and nodded her head. "Aye, Aela said he woke up to play with Randulf for a bit, but then they both fell right back asleep. It's the most peaceful I've seen him since we got him back."

"Randulf is a familiar distraction that he needed. He doesn't know anyone besides Finverior and Fang back in Riften."

"I wonder if it was a good idea to leave Fang back in Riften. He just seemed so content catching the rats in the Cistern."

"There you go, worrying about that blasted wolf all over again," Vilkas chuckled, kissing the top of her head. "Why do I constantly have to compete with an animal?"

"Because he's got those adorable puppy eyes," Lassarina teased.

Vilkas smiled and absently stroked Lassarina's hair, content with the atmosphere surrounding them in that moment. Things had been so stressful for the past couple of months that they barely had time to just relax like this. It was just too difficult to be happy for more than a moment when they knew their daughter was still in the Thalmor's clutches. Having their children taken from them was the worst thing that could have happened to Lassarina. The whole situation had changed her far too much.

It was torture to have to watch the woman he loved with every fiber of his being struggle to get through the day. She pretended to be calm and collected, but Vilkas could see past that fake facade and see the storm raging deep within her. The Lassarina he had married had been kind-hearted and full of so much love, but the woman his wife had become was one bent on getting revenge. The anger and hate was slowly consuming her and poisoning her soul, affecting her everyday life.

She wasn't eating as much as she should, and she consumed wine more often than anything else. Sleep was all but nonexistent, since she couldn't get a good night's rest due to the nightmares that plagued her. Part of Vilkas secretly feared Lassarina would suffer a relapse and turn to skooma to try and numb herself from everything she was feeling. That fear was only reinforced after he watched her coldly slit the throat of the Imperial woman the Thalmor had ordered to care for Faolan. She wasn't aware that he had witnessed the whole thing, but it haunted his dreams.

It was difficult to close his eyes and see the woman he loved cruelly kill someone. Her eyes had been so cold when the edge of her blade smoothly slid right across Tanna's throat. He had seen satisfaction flash in her pale-blue eyes as Lassarina watched the blood gush from the wound she had inflicted on the woman. Normally his wife would feel remorse for any life she took, but not that time. Vilkas honestly believed that if they didn't get Lyanna back soon, Lassarina would be forever changed.

He hadn't even realized he had dozed off until he opened his eyes, feeling completely rested. Lassarina was fast asleep beside him, snoring softly, her eyelids twitching slightly as she dreamed. Vilkas was careful not to jostle the mattress much as he got out of bed and lit a nearby candle to illuminate the dark room. Despite the fact that he hadn't lived in Jorrvaskr for a couple of years, his old room remained untouched and everything was where he left it, still as neat and tidy as ever. Everything except Lassarina's armor, carelessly tossed on the floor.

Sighing, he walked over to the black leathers and gathered them off the floor, folding each piece before laying it on top of the dresser beside the privacy screen. He set her gloves down last and furrowed his brow when he saw a rusty-brown smudge appear on his fingers. Confused, he rubbed his fingers together and studied the smudge for a moment. It looked like . . .

"Blood?" he murmured to himself.

He grabbed Lassarina's gloves off the neatly folded pile and peered closely at them until he found a splotch of dried blood around the wrist. Vilkas's blood ran cold as he immediately turned to her belt, which was hanging off a chair, and grabbed one of her daggers. Right away he found some dried blood crusted on the ebony metal and stared at it in disbelief.

_Her daggers were clean when we came to Whiterun, _he thought to himself, since he had polished and sharpened her blades himself on the journey there. _She killed something last night . . . or _someone.

Just then, a knock on the door jarred Vilkas from his thoughts and he quickly walked over to open it. Einarr was standing behind it, an angry but satisfied look on his face.

"What is it?" Vilkas asked him.

Einarr's eyes flashed and he replied, "Olfrid Battle-Born is dead. He was _murdered _in his sleep."

* * *

><p><em>You've been hit by, you've been struck by a Smooth Criminal~<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	19. Chapter 19

_Only two weeks until my Miami trip, so you'll probably get one more chapter out of ame, as well as something I've been mulling over for a couple of weeks now. How would you all feel about a story set in the Elder Scrolls Online universe?_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Hand of Blood by Bullet for my Valentine, Hello by Evanescence _

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Nineteen<strong>**

****(20********th******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

Lassarina barely had enough time to cover her chest when she was harshly pulled into a sitting position and forced out of the first restful sleep she'd gotten in weeks. Her vision was blurred and she was still half-asleep, but a quick shake of the head cleared the fog away from her senses enough to see her brother towering over her, his face fueled by rage.

Closing her eyes, she groaned and flopped back down on the mattress. "Why are you waking m–"

"What did you do?" came Einarr's icy response.

Any weariness she still felt immediately disappeared and her eyes flew open, a shiver traveling down her spine. But she didn't sit up or look at him as she asked, "What are you talking about?"

"Don't even try to bluff your way out of this one! Only four people here knew about Olfrid working for the Thalmor and now the man is dead!"

Lassarina let out a growl of annoyance and wrapped the fur blanket around herself before she sat up to glower at her older brother. "And what makes you think I did it?"

"I know it was you."

"How? How can you possibly know that? Maybe the Thalmor sent in a spy to get rid of a loose end!"

"Then why is there blood on your gloves and blade, Lassarina?" Vilkas demanded softly.

She turned her gaze to her husband, who wore only a pair of cotton trousers, signifying that he had woken up only a few minutes ago; and she saw her Nightingale gloves and her ebony blade in his hands. Einarr quickly snatched the gloves from Vilkas and brought them up to his nose, inhaling the scent. His lips curled back angrily and he threw them onto Lassarina's lap.

"That's Olfrid's blood," he growled. "The scent doesn't lie."

Lassarina stared down at the gloves on her lap and gripped the fur blanket tightly in her fists. She should have figured that they would have suspected her of committing this crime, but she hadn't bothered taking that into account when she went out on her mission last night. She struggled to find something to say, but she breathed a sigh of relief when the door was pushed open and Faolan ran in, a bright smile on his chubby face. Her son disregarded his father and his uncle and climbed onto the bed, crawling right into Lassarina's lap.

"Mama," Faolan said, cuddling close and hugging her.

Lassarina's arms instinctively wrapped around her son and she kissed the top of his head. "Good morning, love. Did you sleep good?"

"Aye!"

"Are you hungry?"

"Aye!"

"All right, I'll get dressed and then we'll get you something to eat." She looked up from her son's happy face and met Einarr and Vilkas's conflicted stares. They clearly wanted to continue confronting Lassarina on what she had done, but they wouldn't do it so long as Faolan was around. "Would you please leave? Both of you?"

She saw a flash of hurt flood Vilkas's eyes for a few seconds, but he simply shook his head in disappointment and grabbed his armor as he exited the room with Einarr. They closed the door behind them and Lassarina's tension deflated immediately. She took several deep breaths as she hugged Faolan close and her mind went back to the night before.

It had been so easy to slip out of Jorrvaskr and over to the Battle-Born house without anyone seeing her, mainly thanks to her Nightingale armor. She thought things would have gotten trickier once she lockpicked her way into the manor, but it was as if the gods had wanted her to do what she set out to do. The house had been all but empty. Idolaf and his wife Alfhild were fast asleep in their rooms, as was their son Lars, and Jon and Bergritte were nowhere to be found. Olfrid had been all alone in his room, passed out on the bed with a half-empty bottle of mead in one limp hand.

It had been perfectly laid out for her and she did the deed quickly. Her blade had smoothly sliced across Olfrid's neck, severing his jugular and spilling his lifeblood all over his clothing and the bed. Lassarina hadn't even stayed to admire her kill, she simply went in and left just as quickly. She finished it with the quickness and efficiency she would have shown in a thieving job and walked away without a care. Or at least that's what she told herself.

After she had killed Olfrid and was making her way back to Jorrvaskr, she nearly fell apart over the intense level her emotions had reached. Lassarina thought that after killing Olfrid she would have felt some guilt or remorse over having committed murder, but what she felt in that moment terrified her. She had felt nothing. To her, killing Olfrid had been as simple as shooting down a deer or skinning a rabbit.

_Gods, what is wrong with me? _she asked herself. _Why don't I feel guilty for having taken a life?_

She was forced out of her thoughts when Faolan tugged on a strand of her hair and then grabbed her nose in one small hand. "Mama, hungee!"

Lassarina smiled at her son and pushed away some of the black hair covering his forehead so she could lay a gentle kiss there. Just looking at her son gave her the answer she needed. Faolan was the reason she felt no remorse for having murdered Olfrid. The man had made a mistake when he helped the Thalmor kidnap her children, and she was simply returning the favor by taking his life. If it hadn't been for Olfrid, then Lassarina would have simply returned to a semi-peaceful life with her husband and children, Tilma would still be alive, and she and Einarr wouldn't have any involvement in Ulfric's war against the Empire.

"I won't let myself agonize over this," she murmured to Faolan, taking his hands in hers and bouncing him on her lap. "I would do anything for you and your sister, even it means killing someone. That's how much I love you, sweetling."

Faolan didn't understand most of what she said, but he did understand one part and hugged her as he said, "Love 'ou too, Mama."

Tears pricked in her eyes and her heart clenched painfully as she returned his hug tightly, wishing to just freeze that moment and add Lyanna to it; then everything would be perfect. It felt wrong to have Faolan with her and not Lyanna. Her two precious twins had never spent a day apart before all these horrible things happened, and Lassarina knew that if she felt odd about it, Faolan must be feeling worse.

She remembered the first week after they had been born. Since she and Vilkas hadn't been anticipating twins, Faolan and Lyanna had shared a crib until another one could be built. Vilkas and Farkas spent more than a couple of days working on it, since Vilkas couldn't stand being away from Lassarina and their newborns for too long. But once the crib was finished, they placed the twins in them separately and then everything went wrong. Both Faolan and Lyanna would cry every time they were put in their cribs, only calming down when Lassarina and Vilkas comforted them side by side. She and her husband quickly realized that they disliked sleeping apart and rectified the situation by always keeping them together.

It explained Faolan's behavior lately too. Normally, Lassarina's son was very calm and well behaved, but ever since they rescued him from the Thalmor, she and Vilkas had noticed how short-tempered he had become. The slightest thing set him off and he would start crying and throwing things at anyone who happened to be nearby. Whenever he got like that, it was difficult to get him to calm down and Lassarina usually needed to have Fang or Finverior distract him. But she forgave his difficult behavior since she knew it all came from him missing Lyanna.

"Don't worry, darling, I'm going to get your sister back," she promised her son as she got out of bed and changed into her regular Thieves Guild armor.

Once she was dressed, she headed upstairs, carrying her son in search of something for him to eat. Einarr and Vilkas were both sitting at the empty table, immediately looking in her direction once she entered the dining hall, but she ignored them to give Faolan her undivided attention. She sat down at the end of the large dining table and settled Faolan on her lap as she looked at the food in front of them. The rest of the Companions were either still asleep or outside training, so they had plenty to pick from.

"Look, Rona made boiled eggs," she said excitedly. "Do you want one?"

Faolan wrinkled his nose and shook his head. "Nay! Dumling."

Lassarina sighed and handed him one of the chicken dumplings Rona made, watching him overstuff his mouth with it. He was such a messy eater, but it made her happy to see him distracted for once. She had been so absorbed in watching him, she didn't notice Vilkas had moved to sit beside them and only looked up when he set a plate with a slice of bread with melted goat cheese on it.

"You need to eat too," he murmured to her.

She hesitated for a moment before she took the bread and bit into it. Lassarina had no idea how Vilkas was feeling currently, but he couldn't be too angry with her if he fixed her her favorite snack. She had eaten about half of it, when he spoke again, his tone soft but serious.

"You need to tell me why you did it."

Lassarina set down the slice of bread and grabbed a napkin to wipe away some of the mess on Faolan's face. "Not in front of Faolan."

"He can't even understand what we're talking about, Lassarina. We need to talk about why you did this. You're not a murderer, love."

She turned to him at that moment, her eyes icy and her nostrils flaring. "You don't know that, Vilkas. This isn't the first time I've killed in cold blood, remember? I killed Mercer and that Imperial woman Tanna."

Vilkas sighed and grasped her shoulder. "Mercer was different; you were only getting revenge for him causing you to miscarry–"

"And how is that situation any different from this one?" she demanded, interrupting him. "Olfrid is the whole reason Faolan and Lyanna were taken. Because of him, Tilma is dead and one of our children is still in the Thalmor's clutches. There was no guarantee that he wouldn't help them again. He had to be eliminated."

Einarr slammed a hand down on the table at that moment and glared at her. "Aye, he needed to be dealt with, but that didn't mean kill him!"

"Aye, it did! We couldn't afford to let him live and help the Imperials!"

"This isn't even about the war, Lassarina! You wanted him dead because you wanted revenge! You killed him for you!"

Lassarina gritted her teeth and glared at her brother. "Fine! You're right! I killed him completely for the sake of revenge! But you know what, Einarr? I'm _glad _he's dead! He made a grave mistake when he decided to hand the Thalmor my children!"

"Lassarina," Vilkas growled her name in an effort to calm her.

But she ignored him and continued her anger-fueled tirade. "I'm a lot of things, Einarr: a thief, a wife, a Companion, The Dragonborn, Ulfric Stormcloak's sister, _and _a murderer; but above all that, I'm a mother. I don't care who it is, if someone dares put my children in any danger, I will do everything in my power to protect them! I'd kill for my children! I thought you of all people could understand that!"

"And what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Einarr snapped.

"Aside from the fact that _you _are also a parent, you were raised by our mother, a woman who went into hiding, who changed her name and did everything in her power to keep the two of us safe! Your father left the Blades and brought you and mother to Skyrim so that the Thalmor wouldn't kill any of you!"

"Aye, we hid! Our mother and my father didn't _murder _anyone to protect their loved ones!"

"You don't know that! Up until a year ago, we didn't even know mother's real name! Who knows what else she'd done in her life! The point I'm trying to make is that a parent will do anything, _anything_, for their child."

"There's a limit, Lassarina."

"So you're telling me, that if Kiraya was in danger and the only way to save her would be to kill someone, you wouldn't do it?"

Einarr fell silent and Lassarina knew she had won.

"You put yourself in front of a dragon to save Kiraya, Einarr. I think we both know that you wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone who threatened your daughter." She watched her brother's shoulders sag in defeat and she looked back and forth between him and Vilkas. "I don't regret what I did. I did it for my children, and I will never regret anything I do for them."

"Do you regret scaring Faolan just now?" Vilkas asked her then, his eyes focus on their son in her lap.

Lassarina looked down at Faolan and gasped when she saw him clutching the belt of pouches across her chest and burying his face against it in an effort to hide. Frowning, she hugged her son and cradled his head in her hand.

"Oh, sweetling, I'm sorry for shouting," she murmured soothingly. "Mama's sorry."

Einarr rose to his feet and started for the door.

"So, what, is that it?" she asked him.

Einarr stopped walking and looked at her. "Aye. I'm not going to argue with you anymore. I accept the fact that you killed Olfrid for Faolan and Lyanna's sakes, and you're right, I wouldn't hesitate to kill anyone who threatened Kiraya."

She nodded slowly, but remained silent. Lassarina could sense a 'but' coming.

"But, the fact of the matter is you murdered someone, Lassarina. I can't be angry at you or turn you in for it, but that doesn't mean I can't be disappointed in you."

Lassarina's body tensed at his choice of words and she stared at Einarr in shock. She knew she'd frustrated him to no end in the past years, but never once did he ever say he was disappointed in her. Just that one word caused her heart to clench painfully and her eyes to fill with tears. She wanted to apologize, but she remained silent as she watched him keep walking and leave the mead hall.

"Lassarina, love, are you all right?" Vilkas asked her, shifting his chair closer.

Lassarina opened her mouth to answer, but only a strangled sob came out and the tears rushed down her face. Vilkas immediately pulled both her and Faolan into his embrace and kissed her hair to try and reassure her. But it was all in vain, since all she felt in that moment was regret.

**oOo**

Kiraya's tail flicked back and forth, and her nails strummed against the wood of the dining table as she impatiently waited for her grandfather to serve the lunch he had made for her and Sofie. Normally, Sofie was the one that did the cooking in the house, but today Thorolf wanted to do it since he hadn't cooked in almost thirty years and wanted to give it a shot again.

"Grandfather, are you going to be much longer?" Kiraya called out.

"Aye, keep your pants on," he called out from the kitchen.

Sighing, Kiraya let her head drop to the table top and muttered, "I could have just eaten a bit of bread and been out of here an hour ago."

Sofie looked up from the vest she'd been stitching. "Why are you so antsy? Do you need to be somewhere?"

"I was going to meet up with a friend in the Gray District, so I don't want to be late."

"A friend? Who is it? Maybe I know them?"

"His name's Naril, he's the one who helped me when Njorlund and his friends were beating me up. I ran into him at the market yesterday and we agreed to meet today after noon."

"I've seen Naril before. He's pretty handsome . . . you know, for a Dunmer."

Kiraya and Sofie both giggled as they blushed, and it was loud enough to draw Thorolf out of the kitchen, carrying a plate of grilled meat. "What are you two so giddy about?"

"Nothing," they both said in unison.

"So what did you make, Thorolf?" Sofie asked, changing the subject.

Thorolf looked at both of them with a furrowed brow for a long moment before setting the plate down. "My da taught me how to make these when I was your age. You cut some beef into chunks and slide them onto a skewer with onions and potatoes. Then you just cook them over the fire and eat them right off."

Kiraya looked at the skewer of meat and vegetables curiously before grabbing one and taking a tentative bite. It wasn't bad, although the beef was a little tough and it lacked a missing component of flavor.

"What do you both think?" Thorolf asked, taking a bite out of his own skewer.

"Just from one bite I can tell you haven't cooked in nearly thirty years, grandfather," Kiraya teased, biting into an onion.

"It could have used a bit of seasoning," Sofie admitted softly.

Thorolf grunted softly and bit into a chunk of beef. "It doesn't need seasoning. You're not going to find salt or pepper out in the middle of the woods."

Kiraya and Sofie both laughed and continued eating their lunch, taking turns feeding bits of the meat to Sofie's cat.

"Pounce seems to like it," Sofie told Thorolf.

"Aye, what a relief that the cat likes my cooking," Thorolf chuckled, scratching Pounce's chin and feeding him a bit of his skewer.

Kiraya's shoulders shook from her laughter and she practically inhaled her food in a rush to get out of the house. Her grandfather noticed the hurry she was in and looked at her funny.

"Why are you in such a rush, Kiraya?" he asked her finally.

"I'm just going to meet up with my friend Naril," she explained simply.

"Are you sure you should be going out? I saw those bruises the other day."

"Grandfather, I'm fine, I just got into a little fight with some kid," she lied smoothly. "He got hurt worse than I did."

Thorolf frowned, but relented with a sigh. "All right, just be careful. Try not to get into any trouble and be back before dark. Your father left me in charge of you and I don't want to let him down."

Kiraya nodded and got up from the table with an, "Aye."

She grabbed her bow and quiver from where she left it beside the front door and left without bothering to put on her cloak and hood. Everyone in Windhelm already knew about her and her mixed features, so there was no point in trying to hide it anymore. There was a bit of a skip in her step as she ran across the city to the Gray District, where she and Naril agreed to meet, and it only took her a few moments to find the New Gnisis Cornerclub. Kiraya let herself into the Dunmer-style inn, wrinkling her nose when she saw how much smaller and shoddier it was in comparison to Candlehearth Hall.

The Gray Quarter was always a shining example of how Ulfric had neglected the mer of Eastmarch and the reason everyone labeled him a racist. Kiraya was inclined to agree, especially since Ulfric couldn't stand to look at her longer than a few moments without being disgusted. But despite the fact that they lived in the filthiest quarter in Windhelm, the Dunmer inside the cornerclub all seemed happy, drinking together in groups and exchanging laughs and stories.

"Kiraya, you're here," Naril's voice called out from across the room.

Her breath hitched when her eyes finally fell on the handsome Dunmer sitting by himself at a small table with a tankard in one hand and a smile on his face. Holding back the blush that threatened to bloom on her cheeks, Kiraya made her way over to Naril and sat down across from him.

"Sorry I took so long," she apologized. "My grandfather insisted I have lunch before I leave."

"That's fine," he assured her. "I only got here a few moments ago and ordered myself some sujamma."

Her ears pricked a bit. "Sujamma?"

"It's a Dunmeri drink, a very tasty one at that. I'd offer you some, but I don't think you're old enough."

"And what makes you think that?"

"Well, you look pretty young. What are you, about thirteen?"

Kiraya's tail tip twitched and her brows drew together as she caught herself lying once again that day. "Nay, I'm not. I'm actually sixteen, but I look a lot younger. You're not the first person to have made that mistake."

"Sixteen, eh? Then you're only a year younger than I am."

"So you're seventeen? I've actually never met a Dunmer that young before. Back at Jorrvaskr, there's a Dunmer named Athis and he's eighty-four."

"Ah, but, yes, I am seventeen, even though I probably look a bit older."

Kiraya giggled and nodded. "Aye, maybe a little. You look like you're in your early twenties."

Naril laughed and pushed his mug over to her. "Well, since you're sixteen, I guess you can have some of this sujamma."

Kiraya's eyes widened a bit and she looked down at the liquor he offered her. She'd never had any alcoholic beverages before, since her father didn't want her drinking until she was at least sixteen, so having it offered to her now was a bit unnerving. She felt like she was about to do something bad and get in trouble for it.

_But Papa isn't here right now, _she thought to herself as she grabbed the tankard and brought it to her lips.

Immediately, Kiraya wanted to spit it back up. While the drink was sweet in a sense, it burned her throat terribly as she swallowed it and it caused her eyes to water. But she forced herself to take a few sips before slamming the mug down and coughing madly while Naril laughed beside her.

"I should have warned you it was a bit stronger than anything you might be used to," he chuckled.

Kiraya wiped off her watery eyes and nodded. "Aye, you really should have. Sweet Talos, that burns."

"It goes down easier the more you drink." He looked over to the bartender and called out, "Ambarys, another sujamma for my friend here."

The bartender looked at Kiraya curiously as he brought over a bottle of the drink, as well as a tankard to pour it in. "Making some interesting friends these days, aren't you, Naril?"

Kiraya narrowed her eyes and glared at the man. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Don't trust Nords, even if you're only half-Nord. Just don't start up any trouble in my bar."

Kiraya's lip curled a bit, baring her sharp canines, but Naril quickly calmed her down by covering her hand with one of his own. "Don't take anything he says seriously, Kiraya."

Ambarys walked away while muttering under his breath, and Kiraya watched him go with an angry look on her face. It seemed as if every race had a problem with her because of her mixed blood. But just having Naril next to her kept her calm enough for now.

"Tell you what, how about we just drink and forget about all the ice-brains around us?" Naril suggested, uncorking her bottle of sujamma and pouring it into the tankard.

Kiraya smiled at the idea and nodded. "Aye, let's do that."

Naril passed her her tankard and raised his own. "A toast then. To new friendships."

Kiraya raised her tankard as well and lightly tapped it against his. "To new friendships."

* * *

><p><em>So what's everyones thoughts on this chapter? Do you think Lassarina murdering Olfrid was justified? And what about Kiraya, getting all friendly with Naril, even though she's only thirteen?<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	20. Chapter 20

_Okay, so this is the last chapter until I get back from Miami, and let me tell you, it's a good one._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Crash and Burn by Simple Plan, Thank You by Simple Plan, _

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Twenty<strong>**

****(27********th******** of the Second Seed, 205 4E)****

_Kiraya,_

_ Thanks for sending me the leather gauntlet I've been needing. It was a really nice birthday present and I know you made it yourself because I recognized the stitching. You'll be happy to know that it fits perfectly and I wear it all the time. Even to bed!_

_ Anyway, I really hope this war ends soon. It feels weird not seeing you every day like normal. I usually like spending time in Solitude with Aunt Elisif, but ever since Avyanna brought us here, I've just been wanting to go back home to Whiterun. Farkas feels the same, but he won't say anything about it because he knows Anna feels safer having Trystane and Kellen in Solitude, far away from the war._

_ Write to me more often. I can't tell you how happy I was when the courier came with your letter. I'll make sure to write to you too. I really miss you._

_ -Rohan_

Kiraya smiled as she read the letter Rohan had sent her for what felt like the twentieth time that day, and she let out a happy sigh. She had known that he would like the thick-leather gauntlet she had made for him, since his pet hawk's claws always wore out the leather of all his other gloves. But honestly, she wished she could have seen the look on his face when he got the gauntlet. It'd been so long since she'd seen him . . .

"What's with the smile on your face?" Naril asked her, casting off his fishing line into the water.

Kiraya glanced up from the barrel she was sitting on and hastily folded the letter before stuffing it into her pocket. "Nothing, I just got a letter from a friend."

Naril arched a brow at her and scoffed. "Really? Because from that look in your eye, it seems like the letter is from more than just a friend. Got someone special in your life already, Kira?"

Blushing, she narrowed her eyes at him. "Don't make me push you into the river, Naril."

"You try that and I'll just pull you in with me."

"Do it! The cold doesn't bother me anyway, remember? I'm half-Nord."

Naril chuckled and brought in his line. "Well, since it seems like no fish are biting today; how about you tell me all about this boy of yours?"

"And what makes you so sure it's a boy?" Kiraya teased.

"Oh-ho! See, _now _you have my undivided attention."

"Just kidding, it is a boy."

"Awww, I got all excited and everything."

Kiraya laughed and walked over to the edge of the dock before sitting down, her legs swinging over the water below. "His name is Rohan, and he's my best friend. We've known each other since I was ten and practically do everything together. When my Papa decided to join the Stormcloaks and resigned as Harbinger of the Companions, Rohan's sister decided to move the whole family to Solitude until the war ended."

"Moving an entire family all because the Dragonborn joined the Stormcloaks? That seems a little over dramatic. But then again, they've already taken two holds since your father joined."

In the past seven days, she'd told Naril practically everything about herself and her family. He knew how her father was the Dragonborn and Harbinger of the Companions. She told him about her childhood, growing up in a Khajiit caravan and constantly traveling until Alduin killed her entire family and she had to move to Whiterun to live with her father and aunt. She kept it a secret that her aunt Lassarina was still alive, but other than that, she told him everything. It was just nice having a friend to talk to.

"Well, she has two small children, so Avyanna was probably more worried about them than anything," Kiraya explained.

"Ah, well, then I can understand that," Naril nodded. "If I had kids, I'd want to get them as far away from any fighting as possible."

She saw the sad look in Naril's deep red eyes and felt sympathetic toward him. Naril, unfortunately, was an orphan and didn't have any family to speak of. He'd told her that his parents abandoned him when he was just a baby and he'd been taking care of himself ever since he was twelve. He ran away from an orphanage in Cyrodiil and took all kinds of odd jobs to keep himself fed until he found himself a comfortable job as a courier here in Windhelm nearly a year ago. Kiraya had asked him if it was dangerous to be constantly running around Skyrim at his age, but he simply shrugged and told her he would defend himself with his magic if need be.

"I just wish that Avyanna hadn't taken Rohan with her," she muttered. "That, or I wish Papa would have let me go with them to Solitude. Anything instead of having me be stuck here in Windhelm with all these racist Nords."

"Didn't you just boast about how you were half-Nord?" Naril asked dryly.

"Aye, but at least I'm not a _racist_ Nord."

Sighing, Naril started putting his fishing rod away and looked down at Kiraya. "You know, I'm going to be taking a string of deliveries to Solitude tomorrow. Why don't you come with me and then you can see Rohan?"

Kiraya's eyes widened and she quickly tipped her head up to look at him. "Go with you to Solitude?"

"Yes, why not? I'd enjoy the company. It's such a long trip to go on alone."

"Um . . . I don't know, Naril. If my Papa found out I left Windhelm and was wandering around Skyrim without an adult, he'd kill me."

"Come on, you're sixteen! You're old enough to take care of yourself. He's keeping you locked up for no reason. I mean, you have incredible aim. You took down two stags when we went hunting a couple of days ago and killed all those wolves from the top of that tree."

"But what if we run into bandits? Animals and people aren't the same thing. Not to mention Papa left grandfather in charge of me and he'll _never _let me go all the way to Solitude alone."

Suddenly, Naril lowered himself to sit down beside her and slung an arm across her shoulders before looking at her with that handsome face and murmuring close to her ear, "But you won't be alone. You'll be with me."

Kiraya's face burned furiously as she blushed, and she hastily coughed and looked away. "Um . . . I still don't know."

"Come on, Kiraya. We'll hire a carriage to take us there. Please? I really don't want to go all the way to Solitude by myself."

Kiraya struggled to make a decision, weighing the pros and cons in her head. If she went with Naril, she'd be able to see Rohan and maybe stay in Solitude until word got to her father, and even when he found out, he wouldn't really be able to go get her since everyone knew he was with the Stormcloaks now. But then she remembered a key factor: her grandfather. She had enough trouble getting his permission to go hunting with Naril a couple of days ago, there was no way in Oblivion she'd get permission to travel to Solitude.

"My grandfather wouldn't let me go all the way to Solitude with you," she sighed ruefully.

Then she saw the mischievous twinkle in Naril's eye as he suggested, "Then you'll just have to sneak out."

Kiraya had no idea what was going through her mind when she smiled at Naril and replied, "Okay."

**oOo**

Four days later, they were only a day away from Solitude as the carriage dropped them off just outside of Morthal, where they decided to make camp. The trip had been rather uneventful and each day they rode had been peaceful and met with no trouble whatsoever. Kiraya had panicked a bit when the carriage rode past Whiterun, but she kept herself cloaked the entire ride through there so no one would recognize her on the off chance that they had run into someone she knew. But despite the fact that they hadn't run into any trouble, Kiraya had been nervous the entire journey.

When she had left Windhelm, she had left a note explaining where she had gone with the innkeeper at Candlehearth Hall for her grandfather once he noticed she was missing. Then she grabbed her pack filled with provisions and bought a bundle of arrows as she met Naril at the Windhelm stables, where he had hired a carriage to take them as far as Morthal. She had never been to the swampy part of Skyrim before this journey, and she really didn't much care for it. The air was muggy and smelled funny and it was always wet underfoot.

"This isn't the most pleasant territory in Skyrim," she muttered as she tried to find a dry patch of ground for her bedroll.

Naril chuckled from beside the campfire he had just lit and nodded. "Yes, I know. Don't worry, we'll find a boat to ferry us across to Solitude tomorrow so we can cut a couple of days off our journey. I know someone who lives just north of here who will let us borrow their rowboat."

Kiraya huffed and glanced enviously over at the small town nearby. "Hey, what if we just forget about camping tonight and spend the night at the inn? I swiped some coin from my grandfather before we left Windhelm."

Naril glanced over at Morthal and rubbed the back of his neck. "Well . . . a nice warm bed does sound better than sleeping on the cold, wet ground."

"And we could get some warm stew to eat."

"And some wine." Naril stood up and started to kick dirt onto the fire. "All right, I'm convinced. Let's head on over."

They packed up the small camp they had started to set up and practically raced each other to the inn inside Morthal. But just before they reached the inn, Kiraya spotted an unlikely sight nearby; a Khajiit caravan setting up camp just beside it. Smiling, she stopped running and turned to Naril.

"Hey, I'll be inside in a moment," she told him. "I'm going to see if I can get anything useful from the caravan. They tend to trade more generously to me, since I'm half-Khajiit. I'm going to see if I can find some toys for Avyanna's kids."

Naril nodded and gave her a handful of coin. "See if they have any sujamma for me."

Kiraya took the coins with her and jogged over to the camp the Khajiit had set up, slowing down as she approached to see if she recognized this caravan. Because of her heritage, she and her father had a close relationship with every Khajiit caravan in Skyrim, so she recognized the leader of this one right away. She didn't know Ma'dran as well as she did Ri'saad or Ahkari, but she had a friendly relationship with him regardless. As she approached, Ma'dran looked up and his eyes brightened with surprise and joy.

"Well, this one is surprised to see such a familiar face in such a deary place," the Khajiit said as she walked up to him.

"Ma'dran, this one is happy to see you as well," Kiraya greeted, dipping her head in respect and unknowingly reverting back to the Khajiit manner of talking.

"What brings you so far from Whiterun, _rajhin_?"

"This one is going to Solitude to see her friend, Rohan."

"Ah, yes, the boy with hair like fire. When did he move to Solitude?"

"When the war started to get serious," Kiraya sighed.

Ma'dran chuckled and said, "War is good for business. Let the soldiers spill blood while this one makes coin."

"Speaking of coin, this one is looking to trade some goods: toys for two small children and sujamma for my Dunmer friend at the inn."

Ma'dran scratched his chin for a moment before nodding and retreating into his tent to find the items she needed. When he returned, he had a bottle of sujamma in his hand, a small wooden sword and a soft linen doll in the crude appearance of a dog.

"Will these do?" he asked her.

Kiraya eyed the toy dog critically, but it was better than nothing and she could always fix it up a bit. "Aye, they will do fine."

She and Ma'dran negotiated until they reached a price they both agreed on and she gratefully took the items, handing him the gold in return.

"May your roads lead you to warm sands, Kiraya."

Kiraya dipped her head to Ma'dran and began walking away, "Aye, and yours as well."

She walked over to the inn and let herself inside, glad to find that it was nice and warm within and not too packed with patrons. She spotted Naril sitting by himself at a corner table and she made her way over to him, sitting down in the vacant chair beside him.

"Did they have any sujamma?" he asked.

She held the bottle out to him with a smirk. "Aye, they did. You're welcome, by the way."

Naril gratefully accepted the bottle and kissed her cheek. "Thank you, you beautiful goddess!"

Kiraya blushed furiously, but tried to remain calm and relaxed as he poured a glass for her. They drank together for a while, switching to Alto wine once they finished off the sujamma and reducing themselves to a pair of young drunks prone to giggling fits.

"- and then Rohan and I started fighting a bit dirty against Erendriel," Kiraya laughed as she told him about a funny training session. "Rohan was distracting him with a bunch of quick strikes, and then I got behind him and knelt on the ground. He tripped right over me and fractured his tailbone!"

Naril wiped the tears from his eyes as he laughed at her tale. "Every story you've told me about that Bosmer fellow ends with him injuring himself."

"Aye, well, that's Erendriel. He's always getting hurt!"

"Seems like you really love being with the Companions. Makes me wonder why your father left you all alone in Windhelm."

Kiraya frowned and rolled her eyes. "He's convinced our family isn't safe staying in Whiterun while the war rages on. He thinks because my cousins were kidnapped by the Thalmor, they'll try and take me too. But they're just babies, while I'm all grown up. You said it yourself, I can take care of myself!"

"I heard about the Dragonborn's children being taken. Shame she isn't alive to try and save them."

"Huh? What are you talking about? Oh, wait, that's right, you still think that she's dead."

Naril's eyes widened in surprise. "You mean she isn't?"

"Nay, she isn't," she whispered. "But don't tell anyone, because she's working as a spy for Ulfric. She's been breaking into Thalmor bases trying to find her twins." She smacked her forehead and let her head drop on the table top. "Oh gods . . . I was supposed to keep that all a secret and not tell anyone. Now I'm gonna get in trouble!"

Naril put an arm around her shoulders and soothed her. "Hey, hey, it's okay, you didn't mean to let it out. You've drunk a lot and it's the alcohol that's making you tell secrets."

Kiraya found herself crying for no reason and looked at Naril. "Naril, promise you won't tell anyone. If the Thalmor find out, they'll have another reason to hurt my cousin!"

"Shh, don't worry, Kira, I won't tell anyone. You can trust me with anything."

"Really? You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

She laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, feeling extremely sleepy. "Thanks, Naril. I'm glad I have such a good friend like you."

"I know, I'm glad we're friends too, Kiraya." He put her arm around his shoulder and supported her weight as he got up, bringing her up with him. "Now let's get you to bed. I think you're done for the night."

Kiraya mumbled incoherently as she let him lead her into the room they paid for the night and gently laid her down on the bed. He pulled the fur blanket over her body and patted her head gently.

"Just go to sleep and tomorrow we'll head to Solitude."

"Okay . . . G'night, Naril."

"Good night, Kiraya."

**oOo**

The next morning, they were heading north toward the Sea of Ghosts so they could borrow a rowboat from Naril's friend. Kiraya was forcing herself to trudge along after him, but the pounding headache was making it extremely difficult.

"Why did you let me drink so much last night?" she complained.

"Cause it was funny," Naril laughed, placing a hand on her head. "Here, I'll make the headache go away."

She breathed a sigh of relief as she felt a sudden warmth seep through her skull and ease all the pain. "Thanks, Naril." Kiraya then remembered what she had accidentally blurted out last night and frowned at him. "Listen, about what I said last night."

"Don't worry," he told her with a smile. "I won't tell anyone. Remember, I promised."

Kiraya nodded and continued to walk beside him as they traveled along the shore. "Are we nearly at your friend's home?"

"Almost. We should be seeing it come up soon. You'll know it right away when you see it; it's a big manor."

"A manor? Wow, is your friend wealthy?"

"Indeed she is. I do a bunch of odd jobs for her now and again. Puts some coin in my pocket. I met her about a year ago when I was working as an errand boy in Solitude. I had just arrived in Skyrim, so it was nice to have someone who'd give me work. She's the whole reason I got a job as a courier in Windhelm."

"Really? Well, that was nice of her."

Naril nodded and perked up when he saw something in the distance. "Ah, there's the place now."

Kiraya looked ahead and her eyes widened when she saw the large manor. It was easily as big as the manors in Whiterun, if not bigger, and had a great view of the ocean. She followed Naril all the way over to it and as they drew nearer, she fell a bit behind as she admired the place.

"You know, Kiraya," Naril spoke without looking at her. "I'm really glad I met you. You're a sweet kid, but you're just too trusting. Made my job entirely too simple."

Kiraya flinched and stared at the back of his head. "What?"

He looked over his shoulder at her and she frowned at the sight of the sneer on his face. "I thought your father or someone would have taught you not to run off with someone after knowing them a week. They could have been fooling you, kid." He turned away and knocked on the door to the manor loudly. "It's Naril; I brought her."

Kiraya started to get a sense of dread as the door opened, and she gasped in shock when she saw an Altmer woman, fully dressed in Thalmor robes, standing in the doorway. She glanced at Kiraya and an evil grin appeared on her face.

"Very good, Naril," she said in a highborn accent. "I'm surprised you managed to pull this off."

"Naril?" Kiraya called to him, her voice quivering. "Naril, what's going on?"

Sighing heavily, Naril whirled on her, an angry look on his face. "Come on, Kira, you're smart enough to figure out _exactly _what's going on."

Kiraya hadn't even realized she'd been crying until she felt the tears drip from her chin. "So, you were never my friend? You were just pretending? And for what?"

"Why does anyone do half the shit they do in this disgustingly cruel world? For money! You've got to learn now that for the right price, even a person you trusted by your side in a fight will sell you out. I've done a lot of stuff to scrape by in life, and if it weren't for Lady Elenwen here, I'd be a rotting corpse somewhere in Skyrim right now!"

_Elenwen, _Kiraya realized as she looked at the Altmer woman behind him. _So that's who he's brought me to._

Elenwen looked at Naril and asked, "Did you get anything useful from her?"

Naril nodded and looked at the Altmer woman. "Yes, and it's just as you suspected. Lassarina Stormcloak is working as a spy for her brother and has been the one attacking the bases."

"Then it's safe to assume that she has her son back. Did you learn anything else?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure she still knows some things," Naril sighed, shrugging one shoulder and crossing his arms over his chest. "Anyway, I got the information and brought the girl here. Where's that big sack of gold you promised me?"

Elenwen smiled, but there was no warmth behind it. "Fear not, Naril, you'll get your reward."

She snapped her fingers and a pair of Thalmor soldiers stepped out of the house from behind her, one of them holding a heavy sack of gold. They handed Naril the sack and he nodded appreciatively. It was too much for Kiraya to just stand there and watch, so she shrugged her pack, bow and quiver off her shoulder, letting them drop to the ground with a heavy thump and began to advance on Naril, her feline eyes blazing with anger.

"You fucking bastard!" she snarled, swinging one hand and slashing his cheek with her nails.

Naril, shocked by the sudden pain in his cheek, dropped the sack and brought a hand up to cover the wound. "Gods damn it!"

"I trusted you!" she hissed as she began to pummel him with a flurry of punches and scratches. "I thought you were my friend and you stabbed me in the back like a seedy turn-cloak!"

Naril's eyes flashed with guilt, but he grabbed both her wrists in his strong grip and easily managed to restrain her. "Calm down, you dumb girl! It's over! Even a good warrior knows when to lower his blade!"

"Good thing I'm not a warrior!"

"Bring her," she heard Elenwen order.

She suddenly felt two pairs of hands grab either arm and fought against them as they forcibly pulled her away from Naril. "Nay! Let me go!"

"Kiraya, just give up!" Naril said almost desperately.

"No, let her keep struggling," Elenwen laughed. "It's actually quite entertaining."

Kiraya turned her gaze to Elenwen as she stepped off the front porch of the manor and walked over to the belongings that she had dropped on the ground. She watched as the Altmer woman picked up the dragonbone bow and wrinkled her nose distastefully.

"Is this weapon made from _bone_?" she asked. "I guess only primitive Nords would think to make weapons like this." She held it out to Naril. "Here, consider this a bonus."

Naril stared at the bow, glancing at Kiraya before shaking his head. "No, that's all right, Lady Elenwen. I'm more of a mage anyway."

"Then sell it. It must be worth something to a Nord."

That's when an idea came to Kiraya. Elenwen was right about her bow, since it _was _very valuable. It was one of only three dragonbone bows to exist in Skyrim, and every blacksmith from Riften to Solitude knew that only her father crafted such weapons and that he only made them for those closest to him. If Naril were to sell it, it would immediately tip off the smith or merchant and he would probably be arrested for theft. Then the authorities would have no choice but to alert the Dragonborn they had caught a thief with stolen goods.

_It's a long shot, but it's the only chance I've got, _she thought to herself.

"Go ahead, Naril," she spat at him. "Take it. I want you to have it. That way every time you look at it, you'll know you got it for betraying someone who thought you were their friend."

Naril's eyes flashed again and he gritted his teeth as he took the bow from Elenwen and scooped her pack and quiver off the ground. "Thank you, Lady Elenwen."

"I'll have some work for you soon," Elenwen told him. "Until then, stay somewhere close, preferably Dragon Bridge or Solitude."

"Yes, my lady."

Elenwen turned to Kiraya and sneered at her. "And I'm tired of looking at this abomination. Take her down to the underground prison."

"Nay!" Kiraya shrieked angrily and struggled even more against the soldiers trying to take her, kicking out with legs in an attempt to hurt them. When she felt her foot connect with one of them, she heard his cry out in pain and anger.

"Damn half-breed!" he spat, right before hitting her in the back of the head with something hard and blunt.

Then everything went black.

* * *

><p><em>How did you all feel about Naril before he betrayed Kiraya? Do you think he'll try to redeem himself? And do you think that someone will meet Naril and recognize Kiraya's bow? And if so, who do you think it will be? Please let me know in your reviews.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	21. Chapter 21

_I'm back~_

_Miami was great. I got to see my family and friends and I took my boyfriend to the Everglades where he held an Alligator for the first time and I got to take a picture with Chris from Gator Boys! But I'm back now and you should see a new chapter every Thursday!_

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Far Away by Nickelback, Rainy Days and Mondays by The Carpenters, I Don't Care Anymore by Phil Collins_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-One<strong>**

****(5********th******** of Midyear, 205 4E)****

Rohan sighed tiredly, bored out of his mind as he paged through the book on his lap. He had hoped that reading something would make time go by faster, but he'd quickly lost interest to the point where he couldn't even remember what it was he was reading about. He quickly closed the book to read the cover, _Lycanthropic Legends of Skyrim_, and immediately let out a snort of laughter and let his hands instinctively brush across the small scar on the back of his head that he had acquired a year ago to the day. Einarr had still been recovering from the terrible injuries that dragon had given him, and he and Kiraya had been bringing him his lunch when the Harbinger unexpectedly transformed into a werewolf and knocked Rohan into a wall. He had blacked out after that and woke up in Kiraya's room with his arms wrapped around her.

Just thinking about Kiraya brought a pang of sorrow to his heart, and he wished once again that he wasn't stuck in Solitude. Sure, he had more than a few friends in the city, since it was where he spent the first ten years of his life, but he'd rather have Kiraya around than any of them. Rohan was sure she was feeling lonelier than ever, since she was stuck in Windhelm, the center of all racism in Skyrim.

"This stupid war needs to end already," he muttered to himself, dropping the book on the end table beside his chair.

The sound of a child's laughter reached him just then and he turned to see his nephew, Trystane, running into the hall, looking over his shoulder every couple of seconds. Rohan half expected to see Farkas chasing after his son, but instead he saw Kellen crawling after his older brother. The eight-month-old toddler had become more mobile lately, which meant that he needed to be constantly watched, since the little lad also enjoyed sticking anything he could get his tiny hands on into his mouth. Rohan practically jumped out of his chair and scooped Kellen off the ground when he saw his nephew grab a dried up piece of lavender plant someone must have carelessly dropped.

"Kel, don't put strange things in your mouth," Rohan scolded the boy, only to smile when Kellen grabbed some of his red hair and gurgled happily. "And, Trystane, you should be making sure he doesn't do that."

The three-year-old pouted and looked down at the floor. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Where's your papa? Isn't he supposed to be watching you?"

Trystane perked up then and pointed down the hall. "Papa ou'side."

Rohan followed the boy out of the Blue Palace and to the front courtyard where his sister Avyanna was sitting on a bench with Elisif while Farkas pretended to casually walk around. Rohan didn't miss the look of panic in the man's eyes, however, and quickly made his way over to his brother-in-law.

"Lose someone?" he asked Farkas quietly, passing Kellen over.

Farkas breathed a sigh of relief and held his son close. "Thank the Divines. Your sister would have my head if she knew I had lost him."

"I saw him crawl into the palace, love," Avyanna announced from where she sat. "I figured letting you panic was punishment enough."

"Honestly, Anna, you treat Farkas just like your mother would treat your father," Elisif giggled.

"Because it's easy."

"It's cruel is what it is," Farkas growled, carrying Kellen over to his mother. "She does it to me far too often, too."

Avyanna rolled her eyes and glanced at Rohan. "He didn't get into any trouble, did he?"

"He tried to eat some dry piece of lavender, but I stopped him," Rohan answered with a shrug. "Maybe you should feed him so he won't feel tempted to stuff his mouth."

"Aye, I'll go do that right now," his sister sighed as she stood and carried Kellen inside.

Once Avyanna was gone, Rohan glanced at Farkas and Elisif. "How mad do you think Anna would get if I went down to the docks for a bit?"

Elisif was the first to frown. "You know your sister doesn't want you going outside the city."

"I'm fifteen, I can look after myself. Anna was already training for the city guard at my age."

"I don't think your sister would want you going out alone," Farkas said.

"Come on, Farkas! I'm going mad with boredom in here! I think I've read every book in Sybille's library and I've worn out my sword's edge from constantly battering the training dummies."

"Hang on, you didn't let me finish. Avyanna wouldn't want you going out alone, so that's why _I'll _go with you. We could grab some fishing rods and sit by the docks for a couple of hours."

Rohan smiled and looked at Elisif. "If Anna asks, just tell her we went for a walk around the city."

Trystane walked up to Farkas and looked up at him with his striking silvery-green eyes. "Papa, I go too?"

Farkas hesitated for a moment before he nodded. "Aye, why not? We're only going to the docks. I can start teaching my son some valuable skills."

Elisif was clearly uncomfortable with the whole thing, but she let them go without saying anything. Farkas and Rohan borrowed some fishing rods off one of the guards, and Trystane rode on his father's shoulders as they made their way out of the city. Once they were outside the city gates, Rohan noticed a Khajiit caravan was set up nearby and immediately started walking over to it. Because of his friendship with Kiraya, he knew all the Khajiit caravans that traveled through Skyrim and recognized the leader of this one right away.

"I'm gonna buy a toy for Trystane and Kellen," Rohan told Farkas quickly.

The Khajiit leader, Ma'dran, looked his way as he approached. "This one recognizes you. You are friends with the _rajhin, _Kiraya, yes?"

Rohan nodded. "Aye, that's right. I'm Kiraya's friend Rohan."

"The boy with hair like fire. Tell Ma'dran, were you surprised by Kiraya's visit?"

Rohan frowned and furrowed his brow in confusion. "Visit? What are you talking about? I haven't seen Kiraya in over two months."

Ma'dran's ear twitched and he rubbed his chin. "This is strange, because this one saw Kiraya four days ago in Morthal and she told him that she was coming to see her friend, the boy with hair like fire."

Farkas walked over at that moment. "Rohan, do you have enough for the toys?"

Rohan turned to him. "Farkas, Ma'dran here says that Kiraya was coming to Solitude to visit. He says he saw her in Morthal four days ago! She should have been here by now!"

Farkas's eyes widened with concern and he turned to Ma'dran. "Was she traveling alone?"

"This one didn't see anyone with her, but she spoke of a Dunmer friend back at the inn."

"Dunmer friend?" Rohan echoed. "Kiraya doesn't know any Dunmer in Windhelm. Farkas, we have to do something, Kiraya could be in trouble!"

"Aye, I agree, but first we have to go back and write a letter to Einarr. He needs to know about this."

Rohan wanted to object, but he knew that there was no talking his way around it. Einarr was Kiraya's father and he needed to know that she was missing. Nodding stiffly, he started to follow Farkas back into the city. They were rushing up the slope, trying to get back to the gates as quickly as possible. In his rush, Rohan accidentally bumped his shoulder against a Dunmer man heading out of the city with a bottle of wine in one hand and a fishing pole in the other. He was about as tall as Rohan was and had a scabbed over scar across one cheek that looked like it came from claws.

"Sorry," Rohan apologized as he passed.

"Watch where your going next time," the Dunmer spat at him, his breath reeking of alcohol.

Rohan ignored the drunk elf and continued jogging after Farkas, his mind whirling with thoughts of Kiraya. _Please be safe. _

**oOo**

Einarr walked through the streets of Falkreath, uncomfortable under the stares of the citizens that had just witnessed their jarl being stripped of his position. Many of them weren't quiet as they spoke to one another, all of them wondering why the Dragonborn was enforcing the war, why he was fighting with Ulfric. Being right near the border to Cyrodiil, the citizens of Falkreath hold weren't fond of Ulfric and only a few people in the city supported the Stormcloaks.

_It's not like I care for the bastard any more than they do, _he thought to himself as he walked over to the barracks where the Imperial soldiers and hold guards that had survived the battle where lined up and being held prisoner.

One of Einarr's jobs was to encourage those captured to defect to the Stormcloaks and live to fight another day. Both he and Ulfric assumed that people would join the Stormcloaks by the dozens once it was told that the Dragonborn had taken up arms with them, but they both forgot how stubborn Nords like themselves could be. He could see the bitter hatred in the eyes of every soldier and guard lined up before him and instinctively knew that there probably wouldn't be any recruits for them here.

Ralof had been in command for this mission, having been promoted to captain after the Battle of Whiterun, and he was giving the traditional speech that every commanding officer gave to the prisoners. Einarr noticed Assa standing right beside the blond Nord, her gaze going to him for a brief second and looking away just as quickly. They hadn't spoken since he stormed off from her back in Whiterun, and he was actually starting to miss talking to her. He had gotten to the point where he greatly cherished his friendship with Assa and wanted to spend more time with her. But he pushed those thoughts aside as Ralof spoke to the captives.

"This doesn't have to be the end for any of you. You can have a second chance to fight for the right side. The Imperials gave none of us at Helgen a second chance and even sentenced three people who weren't Stormcloaks to the chopping block. Two of those people were Dragonborn and saved all of Nirn from being devoured by Alduin. Because of the Thalmor, who the Empire signed a truce with, one of the Dragonborns was murdered, simply because she was Ulfric Stormcloak's sister.

"The Dragonborn didn't deserve that, not after she nearly sacrificed her life to make sure the rest of us could live to see tomorrow. You could take up arms with us and fight back against the Empire and the Thalmor and make Skyrim _our _home once again." When no one spoke, Ralof grimaced and turned to Einarr. "But you don't have to listen to me. Listen to the other Dragonborn. Maybe he can convince you to make the right choice."

Einarr resisted growling in annoyance and nodded to Ralof as he stepped forward and looked at the captives in front of him. Only two or three looked like they were actually interested in what he had to say, so he focused most of his attention on them.

"Every word Ralof has spoken has been true," he began. "My sister and I were simply passersby who were in the wrong place at the wrong time when we were brought to Helgen to be executed. While Alduin was a bane on each and every one of our existences, where would all of you be had he not burned Helgen down that day? I'd think Skyrim would be an endless plane of fire and death had Lassarina and I not survived. We did our jobs and killed Alduin, and we wanted peaceful lives after that, but it seemed the Thalmor had other ideas.

"Because of them, my sister died in a fire the Thalmor set up to look like an accident. They robbed her of her future, widowing her husband and leaving two children, both still toddlers, without a mother. And if that wasn't enough a tragedy to our family, a little over two months ago the Thalmor kidnapped my sister's children. I have no idea if the Empire has any knowledge of the Thalmor's deeds, but I've had enough. Already the Dominion has stolen too much from me; they imprisoned my father for thirty years, they killed my sister, stole her children, and have even tried to have me killed."

When Einarr finally fell silent and one of captive soldiers scoffed, "You're probably just Ulfric's puppet, doing as your hateful lord commands."

Pale-blue eyes narrowing dangerously, Einarr's lip curled in the beginnings of a snarl and he stalked right up to the soldier, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and getting right up in his face. "The same could be said about the Empire _you _fight for! But it seems you're all too blind to see that you're being used as their puppets! I'll only say this once, I am _no one's _puppet. I fight for my own reasons: for the greater good and for my sister.""

The soldier's eyes flickered with fear for a moment, but then his gaze hardened. "Aye, I've heard all about your sister, the master thief. She runs the Thieves Guild and allows her underlings to rob good people of their belongings."

Another captive, a Falkreath guard, spoke up then. "Aye, I remember her! She and her Bosmer partner robbed Jarl Siddgeir of his valuables and they killed the guard on watch in the prison!"

"Your sister is nothing but a thief and a murderer," the soldier Einarr held spat. "She may have killed Alduin, but Skyrim is far better off without her evil poisoning the world!"

The soldier was on the ground seconds later, blood gushing from the nose that Einarr broke with his punch. He glared down at the bound man, feeling pure rage beginning to boil over deep within him and was about to pick him up to punch him down again when he felt two hands firmly grasp his wrist and pull him back. He looked over his shoulder and saw Assa's gray eyes staring into his. His anger was to close to the surface to dissipate right away and the beast blood roiling within him was only making it worse. He saw Assa's eyes widen in shock for a brief moment and she gasped before shaking her head and staring firmly at him.

"Einarr, enough," she whispered to him fiercely. "Walk away, right now."

He let out an ill-tempered snarl and yanked his wrist out of her grasp, turning away from the line of now-terrified soldiers that were just staring at him like he was a madman. He stalked away from the barracks, heading straight to the inn and barging in, seating himself in the empty table in the dark corner. He was starting to get downright sick of this damned war, which was becoming the new focus hate and disgust. It annoyed Einarr to no end how blind the people of Skyrim were to the _real _threat, the Thalmor.

_How much more abuse will I have to endure to make Skyrim safe again? _he wondered to himself. _And we had to pick today of all days to have a battle._

The Fifth of Midyear, Hircine's summoning day. Einarr felt all but compelled to give in to the desire to transform into a werewolf and hunt through the sprawling forests, to tear the throats out of an entire herd of deer and feast on their flesh. But he had too much attention on himself right now and he really couldn't risk transforming. So he called over the nearest bar wench and ordered himself a bottle of brandy to drink by himself. Or at least he had planned to drink alone.

Einarr was just finishing off his third glass when Ralof and Assa sat down beside him, received their own cups and poured themselves some brandy from _his _bottle.

"How nice of you to buy a bottle for us," Ralof said, downing the contents quickly.

"Talos knows we could all use a drink," Assa muttered, sipping on the liquor slowly. "I really don't understand why you and every other captain needs to bring up Helgen."

"Because Helgen was where we got our second chance at life. We survived for a reason Assa."

The silvery-blonde Nord scoffed sarcastically. "Ralof, only a handful of people survived Helgen, and the _one _man who I wanted to come back never did."

"Ingolf was a good man, Assa. He died fearlessly."

Einarr glanced up from the depths of his cup and looked to Assa. "I wasn't aware your husband was in Helgen that day."

"He didn't die by the dragon," Ralof explained. "He was the soldier that was executed before Alduin began his destruction."

Right away Einarr knew which Stormcloak soldier Ralof spoke of. If he remembered correctly, Ingolf had been the muscular Nord with red-hair and brown eyes who had interrupted the priestess of Arkay and had willingly gone to the chopping block with his head held high. Einarr always wondered if his sister would still be alive if it hadn't been for him going first.

"From the stories you've told me and his actions at Helgen, I imagine he must have been a courageous and selfless man," Einarr murmured to Assa.

She stared at him a moment, her gray eyes studying his face intently before nodding stiffly and tossing back her drink. Assa swallowed the burning liquid and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

"My husband was a man too kind for this world," she said sadly. "He always thought of others before himself and valued the happiness of his loved ones far more than his own. I miss him every day, but I know he's at peace in Sovngarde." She shook her head and sighed. "But enough about that. Einarr, why did you go and do something as foolish as punching a restrained man?"

"He deserved it after what he said about my sister."

Ralof nodded fervently. "Aye, there's no reason to go and say it's best that his sister's dead. I knew Lassarina well when she was alive, we helped each other escape Helgen, and despite being a thief, she was a good woman and I know Ulfric loved her. He mourned for a long time after the news of her death."

Assa briefly glanced at Einarr before she nodded. "I'm only sad I never had the chance to meet her."

Einarr grunted and drank what was left in his cup in one hearty gulp. He didn't like talking with Ralof about Lassarina, mostly because he hated lying to the man. Ralof was a good friend to Lassarina, and having to lie to the man left a bad taste in his mouth. Luckily, Ralof seemed to assume that speaking of his supposedly deceased sister was a touchy subject and was quick to leave it if Einarr steered the conversation in a different direction.

"I don't think we'll be getting many recruits out of Falkreath," Einarr said, flexing his sore fist.

"Not after breaking that Imperial soldier's nose, we won't," Assa scoffed.

Ralof shrugged and grinned a bit. "I don't know, a couple of the Falkreath guards seemed interested in what Einarr had to say. Might be some potential there."

Just then, the door to the inn opened and the last person Einarr expected to see walked in. He rose from his seat, his whole body tense and apprehensive when he laid eyes on his father. Assa seemed equally shocked and rose from her chair as well.

"Thorolf?" she called out his name. "What in Oblivion are you doing here?"

Thorolf's eyes fell on them and he rushed over. "Thank the Divines I finally found you."

"Da, why are you here?" Einarr demanded. "Do you know how dangerous it is for you to be traveling alone? The Thalmor are probably trying to hunt you down as we speak!"

"I didn't come alone," his father replied gruffly, jerking his thumb over his shoulder as another man stepped inside. He was a tall, old Nord man with a bald head and full gray beard, wearing iron armor and carrying a greatsword on his back. "I asked Stenvar to travel with me."

"What about the girls?" Assa asked, concern clear in her voice. "You didn't leave them alone, did you?"

"That housecarl of yours, Calder, is watching Sofie."

"Why just Sofie?" Einarr wondered, a ball of worry forming in his chest. "What about Kiraya?"

His father sighed heavily and a scowl formed on his face as he pulled out a folded sheet of paper from his belt pouch. "Your daughter is more of a troublemaker than you were when you were a boy. Part of me is thankful the Thalmor took me; I probably would have wrung your neck if you did what she's done."

Einarr snatched the paper from his father's hands and unfolded it with slightly shaking hands. When he read the contents, the tight rein he had on his wolf spirit nearly escaped his grasp.

_Grandfather,_

_ By the time you receive this letter I'll already be on a cart halfway to Whiterun. I can't stand staying in Windhelm anymore, so I'm going with Naril to Solitude so I can be with my friend Rohan and not have to worry about getting ambushed by a group of bullies who constantly beat on me. I know you'll probably bring this letter to my father, so to you, Papa, I will not apologize for running off. I told you I didn't want to stay in Windhelm, but you just abandoned me here. A girl with my appearance doesn't belong in this city._

_ I'll be fine in Solitude, you know that. Avyanna and Farkas will take care of me once I get there, and until I do I have my friend Naril watching my back. I'll see you once this war is over and gladly accept any punishment you see fit, but until then, I'm taking charge of my own life._

_ -Kiraya_

Einarr crushed the letter in his hand and slammed his fist onto the table top, splintering the wood with his brute strength. "Gods damn it! I swear to Hircine when I get my hands on her I will tan her hide!"

"Wait, what's happened?" Assa asked, her eyes wide with alarm. "What did Kiraya do?"

"My brainless daughter has decided she's old enough to travel all the way across Skyrim by herself! She'd better pray a dragon or saber cat get her before I do! She'll wish I'd never bedded her mother once I'm through with her!"

"If nothing happened along the way, she probably already reached Solitude by now," Thorolf said. "She disappeared nine days ago. I tried catching up with her before I came here, but the cart she and her friend took had too much of a head start and I was traveling on foot."

"Aye, that's another thing!" Einarr growled, smoothing out the crumpled letter. "Who in Oblivion is this Naril she had to mention twice? I don't know who he is, but the fact that he took my _thirteen-year-old _daughter with him to Solitude is enough incentive to kill him with my bare hands!"

"Naril is a friend she made recently. I guess she must have been having problems with bullies and this Naril boy was watching her back. I never met him personally, though."

"I have," Stenvar said, speaking for the first time. "He's a young Dunmer boy that started living in Windhelm six months ago. Works as a courier, delivering mail from Windhelm to Morthal and Solitude. Never liked him much; he seemed a little too shady for my taste."

Einarr raked his fingers through his hair and growled angrily as he made a split second decision and collected his greatsword from where he had it propped against his chair.

"Einarr, what are you going to do?" Assa asked him.

"I'm going to go find my daughter!" he snapped.

"In Solitude?" Ralof demanded. "Einarr, the Imperials know you're allied with the Stormcloaks now. If you so much as step into that city, you'll be arrested as a prisoner of war. They can have you killed!"

Einarr looked at Ralof and the corner of his lip twitched up for a brief moment. "That's why I'm going to need the help of a master thief."

**oOo**

Kiraya muttered quietly under her breath as she sat on the moth-eaten bedroll the Thalmor had given her to sleep on and picked at the stitching of her left boot. After she had woken up a day later from that blow to the head she had received, she found herself in a small prison cell in a dark room only illuminated by a single candle on the nearby table. Terrified and desperate to find a means to escape, she quickly studied her surroundings, searching every inch of her cell for anything that could be of use to her. Unfortunately, the only things she had found had been the bedroll, an empty bucket and a wine bottle filled with water.

There were two cells built against the wall on either side, and a doorway connected the small prison to another room where she saw stacks of crates and a bunch of barrels. Probably the base's storeroom. For two days she had remained all alone in the cell; no one had come down to feed her or speak with her and the candle that had been lighting the room quickly burned out, leaving her alone in the darkness. It was only on what felt like the fourth day, today, that she remembered she had a way to get out of any prison cell hidden on her person.

"Come on," she growled impatiently at the stitching of her boot, almost impossible to see, even with her inherited ability to see in the dark as well as any Khajiit. "I need to start doing a better job when it comes to this."

For ten more minutes she picked at the stitching with her nails until finally it came undone and the fold of leather flopped down. The soft clattering of metal on the stone floor sounded like the sweetest of music to Kiraya in that moment. With a triumphant smile on her face, Kiraya collected the handful of lockpicks she had sewn into a secret fold off the floor. It was a little trick that Finverior had taught her and Rohan one day when he had been teaching them to pick locks. The Bosmer had told them how he had lockpicks sewn into all of his clothing on the off chance he should get arrested, something that had happened quite frequently when he had met Aunt Lassarina.

It seemed like a good idea to Kiraya at the time, so she sewed a patch of leather onto her boot with six lockpicks beneath it, figuring she'd never know when it would come in handy.

"I'll have to thank Finverior after I get out of here," she murmured, standing up and walking over to the lock of her cell.

It was only when she was kneeling in front of it that Kiraya realized she had made a novice mistake when she'd sewn the lockpicks into her boot. While the picks were strong and sturdy, they were completely useless without a wrench to hold them in place. Growling under her breath, she sat down and tried to think of a way she could substitute the wrench.

Her heart nearly flew out of her chest when she heard what sounded like a hatch opening and saw the light of a torch in the next room. Rushing over to her bedroll, Kiraya stashed the lockpicks where the wall met the floor and pushed the bedroll against them, hiding them from view. Then she sat on the bedroll and appeared to look scared as a Thalmor soldier entered. He held the torch in one hand and was balancing a tray in the other.

"Enjoy this, half-breed," the Altmer spat at her, setting the tray down on the floor and sliding it through the narrow gap at the bottom of the cell for food to go through. "You get one meal a day starting today, and it's always going to be our scraps."

Kiraya didn't talk back to him and only glared as he spat on the ground in front of her and left the prison room, leaving the torch on a wall sconce. Once she heard the hatch close, she moved over to the tray of food, her stomach rumbling loudly. She had gotten a bowl of chicken soup that was ice cold and only had one cooked chicken wing floating in the broth, a slice of hard, crusty bread, and a meager slice of cheese. It wasn't much, but Kiraya scarfed it down nonetheless and sighed contently once it was all gone. She was still hungry and tried sucking the flavor off the chicken bone to sate her appetite.

It was only when she curled her tongue around the curved bone that she blinked and came up with a brilliant idea. She pulled the bone out of her mouth and smiled at it. "Looks like I've found my wrench."

* * *

><p><em>Rohan knows that Kiraya's missing, hopefully Einarr gets the news soon and his need to ground his daughter till the end of time will go away. Anyone want to venture a guess as to how he's going to get into Solitude?<em>

_And look at Kiraya being a little innovator! We all forget that lockpicks are useless without a wrench to hold them in place, but Kiraya is going to make due with a chicken bone. Think she'll be able to escape?_

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	22. Chapter 22

_Here's the next chapter, everyone. Sorry I didn't get it out sooner. Sort of set the drier on fire. There was a lot of smoke but no flames, so it's fine and the drier still works._

_Anyways, this chapter will start off sweet but will get gradually darker. We'll also see someone we haven't seen in a long time._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Total Eclipse of the Heart by Bonnie Tyler, Buffalo Bill by Eminem._

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Two<strong>**

****(8********th******** of Midyear, 205 4E)****

Lassarina gasped loudly and quickly sat up in bed, her heart pounding and tears streaming down her face. Like most nights when she didn't sleep with the help of Sleeping Tree Sap, nightmares tormented her rest and were always recurring and consistent. Tonight she dreamed of Elenwen again, torturing her with branding, whipping, and even restraining her and forcing her to watch as Faolan and Lyanna were savagely beaten by Thalmor soldiers without faces. She hastily wiped the tears from her eyes and carefully got out of bed, making sure not to jostle and wake Vilkas, who was still fast asleep beside her. Throwing one of her husband's shirts on, she left their bedroom in Jorrvaskr and went across the hall to Kiraya's room, where Faolan was sleeping with Randulf and Lucia.

The knot in her stomach went away when she opened the door and she saw her precious son curled up in Kiraya's bed with Randulf sprawled beside him. She quietly tiptoed over to the bed and knelt on the floor, her hand softly stroking Faolan's soft hair while she stared at his peaceful face. It had become a nightly habit for her to wake up more than once in the middle of the night to check on her son, but she needed constant reassurance that he was safe. Lassarina stayed there for a few minutes, just watching her boy sleep before she got up off the floor and headed back to her bedroom.

"Is he all right?" Vilkas's voice asked, startling her.

Lassarina jumped slightly, surprised to see her husband awake now with a troubled look on his face. "Aye, he's fast asleep."

"That's good."

She made her way to their bed and sat down beside him. "Vilkas, are you all right?"

He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Bad dream. I dreamed the Thalmor came and took Faolan again. You tried to stop them, but you were outnumbered and I couldn't get to you . . . I lost you in my dream."

Lassarina felt her heart clench and reached out to cover one of his fisted hands with hers. "You'll never lose me, Vilkas."

He looked up at her in that moment with pain in his gray-blue eyes. "So the next time things get difficult, you promise not to run away?"

She visibly flinched and felt a terrible guilt wracking her very soul. Of course he would be so shaken by a dream of losing her, since her first response to any difficult situation was to run. It hurt her to think that Vilkas was constantly tormented by the idea that she might run off again one day. Lassarina had to start working on getting that idea out of his head.

Grabbing the back of his neck with one hand, she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his lips. "I swear I'll never run off again. I'm going to start working on being the wife you deserve, Vilkas."

"Lassarina, I don't want you to change everything about yourself," he murmured, his lips a breath away from hers. "I just don't want to wake up one day and find you gone again. Just stay with me forever."

"Now and forever. I'll be with you in this life and the next, love."

Vilkas closed the distance between their lips in a soft but greedy kiss and grabbed her hips with his hands to pull her close. Her legs ended up on either side of his body as she straddled him and wrapped her arms around his neck. Their kiss quickly became more heated with each minute that passed, and soon her husband was nibbling on the delicate skin of her neck while his hands grabbed her buttocks and pressed her against him. He was already hard beneath her and Lassarina felt herself getting more aroused by the second. Finally her patience snapped and she hastily moved the fur blanket aside and shifted away for a moment to pull off her smalls and shirt.

Once all barriers were dealt with, Lassarina straddled Vilkas once again and lowered herself onto him, groaning as he stretched her. They moved together slowly, both of them wanting to take their time and savor the moment, sharing kisses and holding onto each other. The room was filled with the sound of her soft, breathy sighs and his quiet grunts. They paused only for a moment to change their position as Vilkas carefully laid her on her back and continued to move inside her. She gripped his hair and kissed him, whimpering when he nibbled on her lip.

Eventually they eased each other over the edge, Vilkas holding her tightly as he came within her. He laid his head on her chest, the rough stubble of his cheek rubbing against the soft skin of her breast, and she threaded her fingers through his hair, combing them through softly and enjoying the feel of his weight on top of her.

After a few moments, he raised his head, propping his chin on her breast and smiling softly at her. "I love you."

Lassarina smiled back. "I love you too, Vilkas."

The both jolted a bit when they heard a knock on the door, followed by a whimpering voice calling out, "Mama, Papa."

Vilkas and Lassarina both sighed and smiled at each other as they moved off the bed and quickly fumbled around with their clothing. Once Vilkas had some pants on and she wore his shirt once more, Lassarina opened the door to find a frowning Faolan standing in front of it. She wordlessly picked him up and hugged him close, letting him rest his head on her shoulder, and carried him over to the bed. Vilkas lifted the blanket enough to allow her to lay their son down in the center of the bed and tucked him in.

Once Faolan was settled, Lassarina slid under the blanket beside him and held him so she could stroke his hair and softly hum a lullaby to him. Vilkas, lying on the other side of Faolan, laid an arm over both of them and closed his eyes as Lassarina lulled them all to sleep.

**oOo**

The next day around noon, Einarr walked into Jorrvaskr with his father; a middle-aged, bald Nord man; and Assa, surprising Lassarina and Vilkas, who had been watching Finverior teach Lucia some sleight-of-hand tricks that were completely baffling Randulf and Faolan. The boys immediately ran over to Einarr, delighted to see him, and while Einarr tried his hardest to smile for them, Lassarina could see the anger and worry etched onto her brother's face. Things were still a bit tense between them, since they never really talked things out after she murdered Olfrid Battle-Born, but she ignored all that for now so she could find out what was troubling Einarr.

"What's happened?" Vilkas asked, having also seen the trouble on Einarr's face.

"Kiraya ran off to Solitude," Einarr explained, rage filling his eyes. "She and some Dunmer friend of hers just up and took off in a carriage."

Lassarina's eyes widened and she stood up from her chair. "What? How could she do that? She's thirteen!"

"Well, thirteen is a good age to start rebelling," Finverior pointed out.

"According to the note she left, she seemed angry about being left in Windhelm," Assa murmured, a concerned frown on her face. "It's not a strange thing to feel for a girl like her. I was born and raised in Windhelm, but it isn't exactly the friendliest place for anyone who isn't a Nord."

"It doesn't matter if it was friendly or not," Einarr growled. "At least it was safe there for her. Now I have to go sneak into Solitude and bring her back."

Lassarina had to snort at that. "You? Sneak? Einarr, I think we've established you couldn't act stealthy even if you were a Khajiit."

"Which is why I'm here. I know you brought some of your thieves with you from Riften, including that woman who changed your appearance."

"So, you want Galathil to change your appearance?"

"Aye."

Lassarina sighed and frowned at her brother. "The spell only lasts a few days and it takes far too long to get to Solitude. You'd have to take her with you."

"Rina, there's bound to be more than a few Thalmor bases set up in Haafingar," Finverior pointed out. "We could go too and try our luck. Maybe Lyanna would be in one of them."

Vilkas nodded beside her. "Not the worst idea. They were keeping Faolan near the border to Cyrodiil, probably to smuggle him out of Skyrim in case things went south. It would make sense if they were keeping Lyanna near the sea."

"Aye, they'd be able to smuggle her out on a ship and then it'd be nearly impossible to get her back," Lassarina murmured. She looked at Einarr and added, "And we could probably go into the city disguised as a group of merchants, try our luck at Castle Dour and see if Tullius might know anything."

Einarr nodded. "Good, then we're in agreement? We'll leave right away?"

"I need to alert Karliah and Rune first so they can come with us. I'm letting them and Galathil stay in Breezehome while we're stationed here in Whiterun. And I'll need to wait for Aela to get back from a job so she can watch Faolan."

"Thorolf, maybe you should stay here in Whiterun," Assa suggested.

The elderly man looked at the pale-haired Nord woman with a glare. "And why in Talos's name would I do that?"

"Da, Haafingar is no place for someone wanted by the Thalmor," Einarr clarified. "I understand you're working on getting your former strength back, but that won't happen overnight and I don't want to risk the Thalmor getting you again."

"And how in Oblivion are you going to find that Dunmer boy Kiraya ran off with without me?"

"Thorolf, you never met the kid," the bald man beside him said. "Remember? That's why you brought me along to point him out."

Lassarina stepped forward before Thorolf could protest some more and said, "I'd feel much better if you stayed here too, Thorolf. It would mean a lot to me if you could take care of Faolan for me. I mean, we obviously can't take him with us, and it'd be a good chance for him to get to know his grandfather."

The elderly Nord's brows rose a bit when she said that, and he couldn't help but echo, "Grandfather?"

"Didn't you yourself tell me that you considered me your daughter? Well, that would mean Faolan and Lyanna are your grandchildren, wouldn't it?"

She caught Einarr's eyes in that moment and he discreetly gave her a thumbs up. Lassarina was clearly manipulating Thorolf in that moment, using her own son as a tool in her little plot, but if she didn't do it then there was no doubt that Thorolf would force them to take him too Solitude as well and very well slow them down. But it was clearly working, since she saw Thorolf's brown eyes stray to Faolan, who was wrestling with Randulf, and saw them soften immensely.

"Well, I guess keeping him safe is an important job," he sighed after a moment.

"Then it's settled," Lassarina announced. "Faolan will stay here in Jorrvaskr with Thorolf watching him."

The bald man stepped forward in that moment and clapped Thorolf's shoulder. "I'll keep you company, my friend. I haven't been to Whiterun in some time and I have a friend here I should catch up with."

"Wait, Stenvar," Einarr interjected. "How are we supposed to find this Naril boy without you?"

Stenvar reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a small leatherbound book. He flipped through the pages, all which were filled with breathtakingly beautiful sketches, before he finally reached one that was just the face of a young Dunmer man. He tore the page out and handed it to Einarr.

"That's more or less what he looks like," Stenvar explained. "You probably won't need it, since he will more than likely be with your daughter if they made it to Solitude."

"Speaking of Solitude," Finverior suddenly spoke up. "Einarr, you and your lady-friend are going to need a different set of armor if you want to get anywhere near the city."

Lassarina blinked at the sight of her brother and Assa's Stormcloak cuirasses and wondered why she hadn't realized that first. She rubbed the back of her neck, embarrassed, and glanced at Vilkas, who seemed to notice she was experiencing a dumb moment and smiled at her.

"I have my steel armor downstairs," Einarr said. "And I think Njada might have some armor that could fit Assa." He glanced at Assa and added, "I'll go downstairs and grab it."

"I'll come with you," she offered, walking beside him as they headed down the stairs.

Lassarina looked at Finverior then and asked, "Could you go to Breezehome and tell the others to get ready to leave? I'd like to be out of the city in two hours."

Her Bosmer friend nodded and looked at Lucia. "Want to come with me, Lucia?"

The young Imperial girl smiled brightly and began nodding vigorously. "Yes, please!"

Lassarina couldn't resist smiling at the sight of Finverior and Lucia together. Ever since she moved her spy squadron's base of operations to Whiterun, Finverior had been spending a lot of his time with the orphaned girl and clearly adored her, a sentiment that Lucia shared as well. Every morning, Finverior was the first person she ran up to, and he spent most of his free time entertaining the girl by teaching her all sorts of card tricks and how to magically pull a coin out from behind someone's ear. She really didn't want to see Lucia wind up in the orphanage after all this was over, so Lassarina planned to have a talk with Finn about maybe adopting the girl. He was, after all, a married man now and she knew that he would make a great father.

_But Onmund may not want children, _her rationality pointed out. _Suggest it, but leave the decision up to them in the end._

"Aye, aye, I hear you," she muttered to herself.

"Did you say something, love?" Vilkas asked.

She blinked up at her husband, now standing beside her, and shook her head. "Nay, just talking to myself. Think you can go stock us up on potions while I pack our bags?"

"Aye, I'll be back soon."

Once he was gone, Lassarina picked up Faolan and held Randulf's hand as she led them downstairs to her bedroom so she could pack but still keep an eye on them. Since she hadn't planned on leaving Whiterun for a few days, she had offered to keep an eye on Randulf for Aela while she went off into the Reach to do some job that needed her attention. Thorolf and the rest of the Companions would be enough to protect Faolan for now, but once Aela got back she was sure no harm would come to her son.

She was halfway through packing when she heard someone come in, and she looked over her shoulder to see Assa standing in the threshold wearing some old leather armor of Njada's.

"Lassarina, do you need any help?" she asked.

"Aye, actually you can," she replied, nodding to the two toddlers making her job harder by pulling out every item she packed. "If you can watch those two for me while I finish this, I'd appreciate it."

Assa entered the room and sat down on the bed, pulling Faolan into her lap. Luckily for Assa, Faolan was a very friendly boy and didn't mind being held by people, but had it been Lyanna or Randulf, the woman would probably be getting pummeled by tiny fists. Her heart clenched as it always did whenever she thought of her daughter, but seeing her son giggling as he tapped his hands against Assa's made her smile.

"You're really good with kids," Lassarina told her, throwing some enchanted jewelry into her pack. "Einarr mentioned you had a daughter, right?"

"Aye, Sofie," Assa replied. "I adopted her a year ago."

"Einarr also mentioned you were married once?"

"Mhmm, my husband Ingolf died back in Helgen, though."

"Oh . . . I'm so sorry. I can only imagine how painful it must have been to lose him before you could even start a family together."

She saw Assa stiffen a bit and frown sadly. "Actually, Ingolf and I married when we were very young . . . I was only seventeen and he was twenty. We had tried to start a family, but . . . I'm not able to have children."

Lassarina gasped and stared at the woman in front of her in shock. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to pry."

"Nay, it's fine. Ingolf and I tried, but I miscarried three times. The last one almost killed me, and Jora suggested that we stop trying."

Lassarina felt extremely insensitive in that moment, and they both fell into an awkward silence, neither of them making a move to break it. She had just packed a large purse full of gold when she decided she couldn't take any more of the tension.

"Well, uh, I'm going to check and see if Vilkas is back with those potions," she muttered. "Do you mind watching the boys?"

"Nay, you go ahead," Assa assured her with a forced smile. "I'll make sure they stay out of trouble."

Lassarina hurried out of the room, only to bump into Einarr, who was standing only a few feet away from the doorway with a shocked and saddened expression on his face. How much had he heard? If the frown on his face was an indication, she guessed that her brother had heard every little detail and was now feeling sorry for Assa. Without thinking, Lassarina squeezed her brother's shoulder and smiled sadly at him.

"If anyone ever needed a friend, it's that woman in there," she whispered quietly enough so only his superior hearing could catch it. "And I don't think I know her well enough to be that person."

Her brother stared at her for a moment, before he nodded and headed into the room. It was only after he disappeared inside and she heard Faolan and Assa laughing that Lassarina continued to walk away in search of Vilkas.

**oOo**

Kiraya's jaw and teeth ached more than they ever had in her life, but she powered through the pain as she relentlessly gnawed away at the chicken bone she had kept from her meal three days ago. Initially she had tried just using the bone as it was after she had stripped all the meat off it, but the end had been too bulky to fit into the key hole. So she started to gnaw on the more angled end of the bone to try and thin it out enough to fit into the lock.

_I've almost got it to just the right size, _she thought to herself as she pulled the bone out of her mouth and studied the thin, fine point she had created.

She was about to put it in her mouth again when she heard the cellar door open, forcing her to quickly hide the bone under her bedroll with her lockpicks. She sat against the wall, trying to avoid looking at whoever it was that was approaching.

"A little early for my meal, isn't it?" she muttered as the footsteps got closer and finally stopped in front of her cell.

"Kiya!" squeaked out a delighted little voice.

Kiraya gasped in shock and her head shot up, her entire body going tense with fear when she saw Elenwen standing in front of her cell holding Lyanna. Her two-year-old cousin looked no worse for wear and had a smile on her face from just looking at her. Without saying a word, Elenwen put Lyanna down on the floor and the toddler ran over to the bars, reaching through them to try and get to Kiraya. Immediately, Kiraya crawled across the dirty floor of her cell and took Lyanna's tiny hands in her own, feeling an immeasurable amount of relief.

"Oh, Lyanna, thank the Divines you're safe," she whispered, trying her best to hug the little girl through the bars.

"Kiyaya!" Lyanna giggled her name happily once more and clung to her jerkin.

Without letting go of her cousin, Kiraya pulled back a bit and studied her to see if they had done anything. To her shock, she seemed perfectly fine, albeit a bit thinner than the last time she had seen her, and her hair was a couple of inches longer.

"Lyanna, are you okay?" she asked the toddler softly.

Lyanna looked up at her with her mother's pale-blue eyes and nodded, "Aye."

"Of course she's fine," Elenwen said haughtily. "She's a valuable prisoner to me after all. Why would I want to harm her?"

"Because you're a horrible bitch who takes joy in bringing misery to others," Kiraya hissed in Ta'agra so that the Altmer woman wouldn't understand.

"A horrible bitch? Well, that's a bit hurtful, and after I did something as kind as bringing your precious cousin here to you so you could confirm that she was alive and well."

Kiraya was a bit startled that the woman had understood what she said, but then she realized that Elenwen must be a few decades old and probably knew more than a few languages. Once the initial shock wore out, Kiraya glared at Elenwen again and felt the fur on her tail puff out.

"My cousin whom you had kidnapped in the first place. You're an evil person! You kept my grandfather a prisoner for nearly thirty years and made my whole family think that my aunt was dead, when you had her locked up and tortured her!"

"Ah, yes, how are Thorolf and Lassarina? I must say, I miss seeing them bleed all over the floor."

"They're perfectly fine and are planning ways to make you pay for everything you've done to them."

Elenwen chuckled then at that moment and stared at Kiraya. "Really? I'd like to see them even try to get near me."

"They'll come!" Kiraya hissed. "And you'll never see coming, not until it's too late and they have a blade at your throat!"

"My, my, such an aggressive child you are. If this is how you're going to behave, I think it's time to cut your visit with the little beastie short."

Kiraya stiffened when she saw Elenwen start to approach and tightened her grip around Lyanna, hoping that it was strong enough to keep the Altmer woman from taking her. For a moment, she wished that the space between the bars was big enough for Lyanna to squeeze through and then she could keep her safe. But Elenwen easily grabbed Lyanna with both hands and a small tug-of-war match started as Kiraya desperately tried to keep hold of her.

"Nay, let her go!" she snarled, releasing Lyanna with one hand to scratch Elenwen.

Elenwen gasped in pain, but managed to pull Lyanna out of Kiraya's gasp. With the bars in the way there was nothing to be done about it, and Kiraya just sat there, baring her fangs at the cruel woman in front of her who was studying the scratch on her wrist.

"Oh, you'll regret laying your filthy, half-breed claws on me, little girl!" Elenwen spat, walking across the room and placing Lyanna in the empty cell across from Kiraya's. Once she had finished locking the toddler up, she walked back to stand in front of Kiraya's cell. "I'll give you one chance to apologize by answering my questions truthfully."

Kiraya scoffed and stood up, trying to look more intimidating, a hard feat to pull of when she was a good foot-and-a-half shorter than Elenwen. "I'm not going to tell you anything, you piece of horker shit."

"Let me rephrase that," Elenwen said through gritted teeth as she summoned a fireball to her palm. "You _are _going to tell me any secrets your aunt and your father are hiding from me, or else."

A shiver of fear ran down Kiraya's spine, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, but she lifted her chin and spat at Elenwen. "I don't care if you burn or torture me, Elenwen. I'm still not going to tell you anything!"

A glimmer of amusement and malcontent appeared in her golden eyes then, and she grinned. "Oh, I wasn't going to torture _you_, my dear."

It was after she spoke those words that Elenwen whirled around and, to Kiraya's horror, flung the fireball in her hand straight at Lyanna's cell.

"Nay!" Kiraya shrieked, gripping the bars of her cell in fear. "Lyanna!"

Her cousin started screaming and sobbing in terror when Elenwen's fireball hit the floor barely a foot away from her. Kiraya had to watch helplessly as her small cousin fled to the very back of the cell and sat in the corner in a vain attempt to hide. Elenwen summoned more fire to her hand and threw it at the cell again, hitting the wall above Lyanna's head and producing another shriek of fear from the child.

"Stop it!" Kiraya begged. "Leave her alone! I'm the one who knows things! Throw the fireballs at me!"

"No, I'm quite happy throwing them at your helpless cousin over there," Elenwen replied. "This way I'm torturing _both _of you." She laughed cruelly as she threw another fireball, this one just narrowly missing Lyanna. "Of course, this can all end if you just tell me something useful."

Kiraya felt tears streaming down her face and was conflicted with her feelings in that moment. If she didn't speak, the next fireball Elenwen threw might not miss and she could very well kill Lyanna; but if she did talk, then she could be risking the lives of her father and aunt in the process. She pictured her father and Aunt Lassarina captured just like her and being horribly tortured by Elenwen, the Altmer woman using Lyanna as a constant pawn to cause pain to her aunt. That settled her decision.

"Wait!" Kiraya shouted just as Elenwen was about to toss another fireball. "Please, stop, I'll talk!"

The flame in Elenwen's hand disappeared and she turned to face Kiraya, smiling pleasantly. "You're making the right decision here, Kiraya. Imagine how hurt your aunt might be if her daughter here were dead. She might just kill herself."

Kiraya continued to cry and collapsed under the weight of her fear, resting on her knees while she continued to clutch the bars. "My aunt has a team of thieves that are infiltrating your bases one by one in an effort to find Lyanna. They already got Faolan back, but you knew that."

"Yes, I did. How many thieves does she have with her?"

"Five. Some of the best thieves Skyrim has to offer. They never get caught unless they want to and each one of them is completely loyal to my aunt. They're ready to die helping her get Lyanna back."

"How sweet. But this is all information I had already guessed. The only really useful thing you told me is the exact number. Do you know anything else?"

"My father doesn't like to involve me in matters like this."

Elenwen sighed. "That's a shame. Now I have to think of a punishment."

"But just because he forbids me from getting involved doesn't mean I don't."

She looked up briefly to see Elenwen staring at her intently. "Go on."

Kiraya paused briefly and took a deep breath before revealing something she knew she hadn't been meant to hear. "My sister and her children no longer have any claim to Windhelm. Jarl Ulfric Stormcloak and Galmar Stonefist's daughter, Urska Stone-Fist are expecting a child in a few months."

The room was completely silent except for the sounds of Lyanna's cries of fear and Kiraya was almost too afraid to look up. She had given Elenwen the leverage she needed to do some real harm, but she kept telling herself it was worth it if it meant she'd stop throwing fireballs at Lyanna.

Finally, Elenwen broke the silence. "That is very useful information, Kiraya, and I thank you for telling me."

"Just don't hurt Lyanna anymore," Kiraya begged in a whisper.

"Now why would I hurt a valuable prisoner like her? She's more useful to me alive than dead." She snapped her fingers, and a soldier that had clearly been waiting in the next room entered. "Grab the baby; we're heading back to the embassy. Oh, and quiet her down. I don't want to have to listen to her annoying little cries the whole trip back."

"Wait," Kiraya gasped. "Don't take her, please! Just leave her hear with me! She needs to be with someone who can take care of her!"

Elenwen laughed. "My dear girl, take a good look at your cousin here, because this is the probably the last time you'll get to see her, and me, for that fact. I'm sure I've exhausted all the information I can out of you. Enjoy living in a cell the rest of your life. If you're good, I might have Naril keep you company once in a while."

Kiraya snarled and launched herself at the bars, kicking them and using what strength she had to pull them apart, but it was of no avail. It only served to make Elenwen laugh as she left the prison with her soldier holding a very terrified Lyanna in tow. When the cellar door closed, a sob erupted from Kiraya's throat and she collapsed against the bars, crying hysterically.

"Gods damn it!" she shouted, banging her fist against the hard metal.

For a while, she just stood there doing nothing but cry, but then she wiped her tears from her eyes and went to her bedroll, scooping the chicken bone and lockpicks from underneath it.

"The embassy," she muttered under her breath as she knelt before the lock and inserted the bone and one of the picks. "They're keeping her at the embassy."

She worked at the lock for several minutes, breaking two picks in the process, but finally she heard it click and pushed the door open. Kiraya's pale-blue feline eyes blazed with a furious determination as she stepped out and turned toward the cellar door.

"Don't worry, Lyanna, I'm coming for you."

* * *

><p><em> I know I went a little overboard with that last scene, but Elenwen is a hateful bitch who takes pleasure in hurting people. Don't worry, karma comes around to punish the evil in the world in the end.<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	23. Chapter 23

_I'm sorry that this chapter is three weeks late. My boyfriend was sick for a week and I was taking care of him and then last week I was on too much of an Elder Scrolls Online binge. I joined the RP community in the Ebonheart Pact and let's just say I've been spying on the wrong people and now they want my character dead..._

_Hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Book Four of my series! **Full Moon, Walk in the Shadows, and Sovngarde Beckons **are the prequels in that order._

_Please remember to **Fave/Follow/Review! **_

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: Danger Zone by Kenny Loggins_

* * *

><p><strong><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Three<strong>**

****(9********th******** of Midyear, 205 4E)****

Kiraya's body was completely tense and her heart was racing in her chest as she stood on the last rung of the ladder below the cellar prison's door. She knew that just above her head was a manor filled with Thalmor agents skilled in fighting with both spells and swords and she, a thirteen-year-old girl, had to somehow manage the impossible task of sneaking past all of them.

_This is a horrible idea! _she thought to herself as she reached for the hatch with a shaking hand. _But I have to risk it so I can save Lyanna._

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Kiraya carefully pushed the hatch up just enough to be able to check and see if anyone was in the room above. A quick survey showed her a dark storeroom, filled with barrels and crates and all sorts of dust-covered items, but there wasn't a single person in sight. Taking this as her best chance to get out of the cellar, she opened the door more and climbed out as quietly as possible, keeping a firm grip on the hatch so it didn't slam back down and alert everyone of her escape. Once she was out, she lowered the door down gently so it barely made a sound and dashed over to a stack of crates, hiding behind them.

_Okay, you're out of the cellar, _she praised herself. _Now you just need to sneak past Talos knows how many Thalmor and get to safety before they realize you've escaped._

Kiraya held back a groan of frustration, wishing her mind would just shut up so she could try and make her escape attempt. She peeked out from behind the crate to the closest doorway, which led to an illuminated room, already hearing the gentle murmur of voices in conversation from where she hid. Feeling a little braver, she crept over to the doorway and pressed her back against the wall as she peeked around and looked into the next room. It was a large dining room with stairs on either side that led upstairs, entrances to two other rooms, and a long table in the center where four Thalmor soldiers sat eating and chatting while a Khajiit woman served them.

_How in Oblivion am I supposed to get through there without them seeing me?_

Kiraya found herself wishing that she was her aunt in that moment because there was no doubt Lassarina would be able to sneak her way through an occupied room without breaking a sweat. She decided that the moment she escaped and got back to her family, she was going to spend a few months in Riften having Brynjolf and the rest of the Thieves Guild teach her how to sneak.

_Assuming I even escape._

Letting out a soft hiss of frustration, she pulled her head back and slid down to the floor, grabbing fistfuls of her hair as she tried to think up a plan. But her mind was coming up with nothing that could work and all she was left with was praying to the gods to help her out of this prison.

"Please, Talos, Mara, anyof you nine," she whispered to herself. "I'll even pray to the Daedra; Azura, Hircine, Sangu-fucking-ine. Please help me get out of here."

It was just then that the entire manor shook, silencing the idle chatter from the Thalmor in the next room.

Then one of the Thalmor spoke. "Did any of you feel tha-"

His question was cut off when an ear-splitting roar echoed around the outside of the house, followed by a scream of terror. Every hair on Kiraya's head stood on end and her heart stopped for a second.

"What in the void was that?" a Thalmor shouted from the dining room.

Kiraya would have answered him if she weren't hiding, since she knew exactly what had landed right outside the house. It seemed the gods and Daedra had been listening to her and decided to give her a method of escape, but it just had to be the thing she hated most on Nirn that caused a distraction.

She heard the front door of the manor slam open and a Thalmor run in screaming, "Dragons! There's two dragons outside!"

Kiraya gasped and covered her mouth. So it wasn't just one dragon outside her prison, waiting to go on a rampage, but two. The house shook again and she could only guess the second one had landed. More roars tore through the stone walls around her and the Thalmor before the ground started to violently shake, and she could hear shrieks of pain.

"It sounds like they're fighting!" an Altmer said, sounding a bit excited. "We should go out and watch!"

"Are you mad, Fenlil? They'll tear us apart!"

"Why would they bother attacking us when they're too busy attacking each other?"

"Maybe they're too busy attacking each other because there are no mer around for them to eat."

"Then we'll feed them the runt downstairs if they get too close to us," another Altmer chuckled. "I'm with Fenlil, we should watch those beasts fight it out. It's bad enough that Elenwen has us stuck out in these marshes guarding a half-breed brat."

"Yes, we deserve a bit of entertainment," Fenlil said. "Come on, if they get too close we can just fight them off. If this Nord Dragonborn can fight them alone, then we shouldn't have any trouble."

_My father can fight circles around you! _Kiraya wanted to snap at the Thalmor, but she remained silent, wanting them to leave the house so she could run out while they were distracted by the dragons.

The Thalmor argued for a few more moments before finally Fenlil managed to convince them all to go outside to observe the dragons, winning them over by pointing out that they could destroy the manor if they didn't watch them and make sure they didn't get too close. Kiraya listened to them leave and waited a few moments before peeking her head out of the storeroom and finding the dining room empty. Breathing a sigh of relief, she stepped out of the storeroom and tiptoed her way through the dining room.

"How did you get out?" she heard a Khajiit accented voice hiss.

Kiraya gasped and turned her head to see the Khajiit servant hiding in one of the adjoining rooms, the kitchen it seemed. She was thin and lithe, with warm brown eyes, and her sandy-brown fur was dotted with several black spots. Her eyes were widened with a mixture of fear and shock as she stared at her.

"You are Khajiit," the servant said, surprised.

"Only half," Kiraya couldn't help clarifying. "Please, don't say anything. I need to escape."

The Khajiit servant's eyes shifted nervously for a moment and she looked conflicted over what to do, but finally she lowered her head and turned her back to Kiraya. "Zanita saw nothing."

Kiraya let out a relieved sigh. "Thank you so much."

Without saying another word to the servant, Kiraya ran to the front of the manor, finding the door wide open. It was dark outside, indicating that night had already fallen and meant that she'd have the cover of shadows to help her escape. Taking her first steps outside in days, Kiraya quickly looked around to make sure she didn't see any Thalmor or the two dragons. The Thalmor were nowhere in sight, but she could clearly hear the dragons fighting somewhere nearby. Dropping into a sneaking crouch like she'd seen her aunt do hundreds of times, she walked along the wall of the house and turning the corner to go around the side, bumping straight into someone's back.

""Watch where you're goi-" The Thalmor soldier cut himself off as he turned to snap at her. "How did you get out of your cage, you little brat?"

Kiraya shrieked when he reached for her and instinctively swiped her hand at him, her sharp nails raking across his eye. The soldier shouted in pain and covered his face, giving Kiraya a chance to run, a chance she wasn't going to pass up.

"The half-breed escaped!" she heard the soldier she scratched shout when she was already a few yards away. "She's running!"

Kiraya was whimpering fearfully as she tore across the snow-covered ground toward the dark outline of the forest behind the manor. She could already hear the adrenaline-pumping sound of Thalmor chasing after her, as well as the sound of dragons fighting, which seemed to be getting louder with each step she took. But she didn't dare risk looking around for the dueling dragons, not even when she felt the punch of a strong gust, indicating that one or both of them had taken flight. Her sights were set on the forest.

When she reached the trees, she finally risked a glance over her shoulder to see she already had a good lead on the Thalmor; if she could lose them in the forest, she'd attempt to climb a tree and wait it out until they gave up searching and assumed she had gotten away. Turning away from the pursuing soldiers, she weaved through the trees, making sure to leave a confusing flurry of footfalls in the snow while she searched for a good tree to hide in. She was so focused on her task, she didn't notice one of the dragons had flown overhead and was landing in front of her until it was too late. She let out a terrified scream, losing her balance as the ground shook from its landing and falling to the ground, remembering the last time she had confronted a dragon alone. She had been lucky to survive that day, but her father had been seriously injured and this time he wasn't here to save her.

The brown dragon in front of her stared at her with a hungry look in its eyes and bared its teeth as she crawled backward in a vain attempt to get some distance between them. She felt tears streaming down her face as she watched it close the distance between it and her and stretch open its maw. Suddenly a gust of wind hit her, blowing the snow on the ground away as the second dragon swooped down from the sky, knocking the brown dragon aside as it landed. Kiraya gasped, in complete shock as she stared at the dragon who saved her, or possibly just knocked its rival aside so it could eat her instead.

_Wait, _she thought to herself. _I recognize this dragon._

Despite how dark it was, there was just enough moonlight for Kiraya to make out the gorgeous red color of this dragon's scales. She had only ever seen one dragon with scales that color before and the last she'd seen it, it was carrying her father and aunt off to Sovngarde.

"Odahviing," she found herself saying.

Odahviing turned to her at the sound of his name and looked like he was about to speak, only to get interrupted by the brown dragon as it launched itself at him. Kiraya scrambled to her feet and dashed away to get out of the immediate area of danger as the dragons engaged themselves in combat. Both dragons screeched and roared as they clawed and bit each other, and she could do nothing but watch in awe and terror. It was clear that Odahviing was the stronger dragon, easily managing to pin his opponent to the ground in submission and appearing to end the tussle, only for an ice spike to fly through the air and stab Odahviing's wing.

_The Thalmor! _Kiraya realized, whirling around in time to find the soldiers upon them.

The closest one tackled Kiraya to the ground, causing her body to vibrate with pain when it met the ground, while the others focused their attention on the dragons, casting magic at them and firing arrows. Both dragons clearly had enough and Odahviing took flight, his rival following him the minute he was off its back. The dragons' distraction went to waste and Kiraya was caught again, pinned to the ground by a Thalmor soldier who was already binding her hands behind her back.

"Your going back to your cage, you filthy animal," the soldier spat at her. "And I'm going to make your time with us very difficult as payment for ruining my face."

Normally Kiraya would have shot back an insult, but she just felt too defeated and hurt in that moment. The gods had given her an opportunity to escape and she failed. All she could think about now was how she'd never get away from the Thalmor's clutches.

_I'm doomed . . . _

**oOo**

Four days later, Einarr and his large group were only a couple of miles outside of the city of Solitude, hiding in some trees just beside the main road as Galathil worked her face-sculpting magic. She had already changed the appearance of Lassarina and Assa, making them unrecognizable to even the people in their group, and now the mage was working on altering Einarr's appearance, taking little suggestions from his sister and Assa every few moments.

"Give him a scar on his eyebrow," Assa offered, pointing to a spot on Einarr's face.

"Maybe lighten the shade of his hair a bit more?" Lassarina put in. "We don't want the red too dark."

Einarr grumbled and glared at both women as Galathil's hands hovered and moved over his face, placing the complex illusion magic. He hadn't butted in and put in suggestions when she had been altering Assa and his sister's appearances, but then again he preferred their normal faces. Lassarina had her usual disguise on, with the blonde hair and green eyes that made her look more closely related to Ulfric than anything. Assa's silvery-blonde hair had been turned jet black, her skin was pale ivory, and her gray eyes were now the same bronze color of Dwemer constructs. She still looked very pretty, but he found himself missing her usual appearance.

"All right," Galathil sighed irritably. "I think I'm done, if you find this suitable."

Einarr immediately got up and snatched the mirror from Lassarina, wanting to have his own opinion before they said anything. His hair had been changed from honey-brown to a rust-red and his eyes were the same color as pine needles. The claw mark scar he had gotten when he fought the Glenmoril witches was now gone and instead a small nick went through his right eyebrow. He thought he looked strangely familiar and scowled when he realized why.

"You made me look like Brynjolf!" he spat at his sister.

Over by the others, Rune snapped his fingers and pointed to Einarr. "That's why he looked so familiar!"

"What are you talking about?" Lassarina demanded. "He doesn't look like Brynjolf."

"Rina, love, he does," Vilkas sighed, crossing his arms and studying Einarr's face. "They look like they could be twins."

"Well, at least now he has a name to give if someone asks," Karliah said. "You'll have to bear with it while we're inside Solitude."

Einarr growled angrily and gave his sister the mirror back, picking his belongings up off the ground and strapping his Skyforge steel greatsword on his back. Because they couldn't draw too much attention on themselves, all of their dragonbone weapons had been left behind in Whiterun and they all wore common armor that wouldn't set them apart from any regular traveler. Even the thieves had kept their guild leathers stowed away in their packs, hidden from sight until they entered the city and could use the cover of night to do their infiltrating.

"I know how you feel," Assa suddenly spoke, appearing beside him. "It feels strange having a different face. And I can honestly say I preferred how you looked before."

Einarr nodded to her. "Aye, you look a lot better with your regular appearance." He suddenly got the feeling that she might misinterpret what he just said and stammered, "Not that you don't look nice now. You look very pretty like this, I mean, you looked pretty before too, but–"

He stopped himself from saying anything else, realizing he was making a fool of himself and that he was embarrassing Assa, if the blush on her cheeks and the strange look in her eyes was any indication. Ducking his head and muttering a brief apology, he walked away from her and rushed back to the main road, where a few of them were already headed. He fell into step beside Finverior and caught the Bosmer grinning at him.

"What?" he demanded with a growl.

"Nothing," Finverior chuckled, holding his hands up defensively. "You two just make a cute couple is all."

Einarr's eyes widened and he glanced over his shoulder to see if Assa had overheard, but she was busy talking to Lassarina and Karliah. "Assa and I are not a couple."

"Could have fooled me. You two are acting like a pair of teenagers around each other. She clearly likes you, my friend."

"We're just friends, Finverior."

Finverior nodded his head but didn't believe him. "Of course you are."

Einarr growled again and muttered a string of insults about the Bosmer beside him in Ta'agra as they walked toward Solitude's gates. It only took them about half an hour to reach them from where they had stopped to have Galathil perform her magic, and they were immediately stopped at the gates by the city guards.

"Hold it! Who approaches?"

Lassarina was the one to step forward. "Just a group of travelers looking for a place to rest. We've been traveling for days after fleeing Falkreath."

"Fleeing Falkreath?" the soldier repeated. "Why do you flee?"

"The damned Stormcloak army has taken control of the hold, and I'll willingly give myself to Molag Bal before I live under Ulfric the King-Slayer's banner."

The soldier seemed to nod in agreement with every word Lassarina spoke. "Aye, you and me both. We'll get these gates open and then you should head to the Winking Skeever for a place to rest and eat."

Lassarina thanked the soldier and gave Einarr a sly smirk when they turned around to open the gates. He shook his head and rolled his eyes at how easily lying came to her and wondered if Kiraya had been getting her recent stubborn attitude from her aunt. The thought of his daughter made his stomach and heart clench with worry, and he prayed to the gods that she was with Farkas and Avyanna so he could shout at her for doing something as idiotic as traveling all the way to Solitude at her age.

"Enjoy your stay in Solitude," the guard told them as they entered the city.

They all nodded as they passed, and Einarr noticed that despite the escalating war, the city had barely changed. There were a few more guards walking around and he saw a couple of Imperial soldiers, but it seemed like everyone was oblivious to the Stormcloak army rapidly taking control of the majority of the holds in Skyrim.

"Everyone seems so relaxed," Assa muttered, walking over to him. "If things are like this, Ulfric should have no problem taking over the city when the time comes."

"Don't speak of that here," Einarr warned her. "You never know who's listening."

She nodded and shut her mouth, keeping her eyes forward as they walked. Einarr led the way to the residential part of the city where most of the citizens kept their homes and where he knew Avyanna and Farkas were staying. Before Avyanna had moved to Whiterun with Rohan, she had followed her father's footsteps and become Jarl Elisif's housecarl and lived in Proudspire Manor, so if he had to venture a guess, he had to think that the jarl had allowed Avyanna's family to move back in. He'd never been to Proudspire Manor himself, so it took him a few moments and directions from a guard to finally find it. He marched up the steps to the door and pounded his fist against the wood loudly.

"Coming!" he heard a familiar voice call out from inside. A moment later the door opened a bit and Einarr found himself looking at Farkas. "Can I help you?"

"Farkas, it's me, Einarr," he told his shield-brother.

Farkas arched a brow in confusion and shook his head. "Nay, you aren't."

"He's disguised by illusion magic, ice-brain," Vilkas sighed, coming to stand beside Einarr. "But trust me, it's him."

A smile came to Farkas's face at the sight of his brother and he threw the door open, pulling his twin in for an embrace. "Vilkas, gods damn it, it's good to see you. Hurry and come inside."

Einarr heard Lassarina turned to her entourage and say, "Karliah, take everyone to the inn and await my orders. You'll hear from me shortly."

Her thieves left without complaint and Einarr followed Vilkas inside with Assa and Lassarina behind him. Once they were inside, Farkas shut the door and looked at them in confusion.

"So why are you disguised?" he asked. Then he motioned to Assa and Lassarina, "And who are they?"

"What, don't recognize your own sister-in-law?" Lassarina asked with a smirk.

Farkas chuckled and shook his head. "Lassarina, good to see you too, even if it isn't your face."

"And this is Assa; she's a Stormcloak," Einarr explained. "She offered her help and we needed to be disguised so we weren't taken prisoner the moment we stepped through the gates."

Farkas nodded slowly, understanding what was said, and sighed. "I can already guess why you're here."

"Good, then we can stop beating around the bush and I can get straight to punishing my daughter." Einarr moved further into the house and called out loudly, "Kiraya, if I don't see your face in front of me in the next five seconds, you'll never take a step out of your room again!"

He heard footsteps coming down the stairs and readied himself to see his daughter, but instead Rohan came down, a worried frown on his face that quickly shifted to confusion.

"Who in Oblivion are you?" he asked Einarr.

"It's me, Einarr," he snapped impatiently. "Now where's Kiraya?"

Rohan hesitated a moment, staring at Einarr's face for a few minutes before Farkas cut in, "Einarr, didn't you get the letter we wrote to you?"

He turned to his shield-brother. "Nay, what letter? Where's Kiraya?"

"She's not here," Rohan answered miserably. "Farkas and I went outside the city to go fishing a little over two weeks ago and ran into a Khajiit caravan who saw her in Morthal. She told the caravan leader she was coming here, but she never showed up. She should have gotten here before the caravan. We wrote you a letter saying that she's missing."

Einarr's blood ran cold and he looked at his daughter's friend in shock. "So, you're telling me you have no idea where Kiraya is?"

Rohan shook his head, his eyes full of anguish. "All we know is that she was last seen in Morthal, traveling with some Dunmer. Farkas and Anna said we should wait for you to get here so we could start looking for her."

Einarr's whole body shook, and all he could hear was this loud ringing in his ears as he tried to process the information. Kiraya was missing and no one had any idea where she was. The only lead they had was someone seeing her in Morthal over two weeks ago. Terrible thoughts started to cloud his mind, thinking his daughter was hurt and lost, or worse, dead. He didn't even register the fact that Assa was shouting his name until she slapped him across the face and brought him back to reality.

"Einarr, get a hold of yourself," she snapped at him. "I know how you must feel right now, but we have a lead as to where she last was and a picture of the Dunmer boy she was traveling with. We'll find her!"

"You have a picture of the Dunmer?" Rohan asked. "Can I see it? I want to know what he looks like so I know who to keep an eye out for. I really want to help find Kiraya. I would have gone looking for her days ago if Anna would have let me!"

Lassarina had been holding onto the picture, since she would have had an easier time spotting one face in a crowd, and pulled it out of her belt pouch. "Here, Rohan. And don't you worry about your sister. I'll make sure she let's you come with us."

Rohan smiled appreciatively at Lassarina and took the drawn sketch, looking at it for a moment before gasping in shock. "I know him! I saw him heading to the docks the day we found out Kiraya was missing! I've seen him around the city since then too!"

Einarr's eyes blazed and he stared at Rohan. "Are you telling me that Dunmer is here in Solitude?"

"Aye, and he's been here for days! He's got to know something about what happened to Kiraya!"

Einarr snatched the sketch from Rohan and glared at the piece of paper before crumbling it in his hand. "Lead me to him, Rohan."

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><p><em> How'd you like the little Odahviing cameo? Do you think he'll come into focus in later chapters? And what do you think is going to happen with Naril? Will they catch him? Will he confess to what he did if they do? Tell me what you think!<em>

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, please **Fave/Follow/Review! **Getting your reviews always makes me smile!_


	24. Chapter 24

_Hello my readers!_**  
><strong>

_Turns out that my brother has a laptop and I managed to get this chapter written up for all of you! Now, this by no means signifies that I'm back on a regular update schedule, because I'm still trying to get my life sorted. But I do want to thank every single one of you who messaged and left encouraging words to me in their reviews! It has been so helpful knowing I have the support of all of you guys!_

_Which is why instead of musical inspiration this chapter, this chapter is dedicated to all of you! Because you all inspired me to get this out to you!_

_Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Four<strong>

Rohan stood in the center of Solitude's marketplace, his eyes constantly scanning the faces of each and every Dunmer he saw, looking for one face in particular. As he looked around, his eyes would occasionally lock with Karliah's, Finverior's, or Rune's. The three thieves were tasked with supervising Rohan while he carried out the plan of finding Naril and leading him to a secluded spot where an ambush would be set up and waiting. It had taken Einarr and Lassarina a couple of hours to form this plan, and the only real snag had been getting Avyanna to agree to let Rohan be a part of it.

Avyanna had been ecstatic to see Einarr and Lassarina after so many weeks and more than willing to offer them Proudspire Manor during their time in Solitude while they searched for Naril and Kiraya. But the moment they said they needed Rohan for their plan to work, she had immediately objected and only allowed it after a lot of persuading and the guarantee that he'd be watched while the plan was in motion. Rohan knew that she was just worried about his safety, but he didn't care too much about it when he knew that Kiraya was out there, lost, alone, and most likely in a lot of danger.

_ Besides, I'm fifteen years old, _he thought to himself as he leaned back against the well. _I don't need her to worry about me anymore like I'm a defenseless little boy._

He'd show everyone that he wasn't a little boy anymore once he found this Naril that Kiraya had been traveling with. The dark thoughts that were traveling through his mind whenever the Dunmer came to mind both frightened and exhilarated him. Even now his hands were clenching into fists, just imagining how satisfying it would be to feel Naril's nose breaking from the impact of his punch. It made him even more determined to find the man Kiraya was last with.

_We've got to find him, _Rohan thought to himself. _Kiraya's life depends on it!_

But two hours of hanging around the marketplace had proven fruitless. Several Dunmer had passed through, a majority of them being men, but not a single one of them had been Naril and there was only an hour of sunlight left in the day. With every minute that passed, any hope of finding this man was dwindling. It was when Finverior approached him that Rohan felt his heart beginning to break.

"I don't think we're finding this guy today, kid," the Bosmer told him with a frown.

"Nay, Finn, we should stay a little longer," Rohan begged. "Kiraya's depending on us!"

"I understand that, Rohan, but we have no way of knowing when Naril will show up. This may take a couple of days."

"But he could show up at night."

"Which is why Karliah, Rune, and I will be keeping our eyes and ears open back at the inn. If we keep you out any longer, your sister's hair will fall out."

Rohan gritted his teeth, completely against quitting right now, but he knew nothing he could say would change their minds. After all, in their minds he was just a kid. Lowering his head in defeat, he nodded to Finverior and shrugged off the Bosmer's hand when he laid it on his shoulder in a form of comfort.

"I know you're angry right now, but we'll find this Naril fellow and find Kiraya," Finverior assured him.

Rohan only managed to glare at him as he started to walk toward the residential district of the city. But then he noticed something out of the corner of his eye and froze. Whirling around, his eyes went wide with shock and he felt his whole body practically bursting with a mixture of anger and relief. There, walking through the busy streets, a wrapped bow slung across his back, was the target of their search: Naril.

"Finverior, there he is!" Rohan said, nodding to the young looking Dunmer.

Finverior followed his gaze and immediately grinned. "It looks like this plan is about to get into motion." He looked at Rohan and nodded. "All right, I'll start leading the others to the ambush sight; you figure out a way to get him there."

"Got it."

They split up, Rohan heading over toward Naril, while Finverior started to gather up Karliah and Rune. He made sure to stay several feet behind the Dunmer as he followed and deduced that he was heading to The Fletcher. He kept right on his tail until he watched Naril disappear into the small shop. Rohan let a few moments pass before he followed Naril inside, already hearing the Dunmer arguing with the shop owner, Fihada.

"Listen to me," Naril spat. "I'm telling you that this is completely authentic! It's made of dragon bone!"

Rohan's brow furrowed at the sound of that and walked further into the shop, nearly stunned frozen from the sight of a very familiar bow on the counter. It was Kiraya's bow, and Naril was trying to sell it!

"There isn't a blacksmith in Skyrim that can forge dragonbone except the Dragonborn," Fihada countered, "and he doesn't exactly sell those to merchants."

"Dragonbone weapons were crafted in the days of the dragon wars," Naril argued. "Ancient Nords used them and were buried with them! I could have gone down into one of those accursed tombs and taken this."

"But you didn't," Rohan interrupted, walking up to the counter and looking down at the bow, immediately spotting the mark Einarr carved into each weapon he forged. Now there was no denying that this was in fact Kiraya's bow. "I've seen this mark before. This bow _was _forged by the Dragonborn."

Naril whirled around, staring at Rohan in shock, his red eyes wide with fear and apprehension. The Dunmer looked ready to bolt out of the shop but stayed put. Rohan gave him credit for fighting against his initial instinct to flee, but he could see guilt written all over his face.

"And just how do you figure that, boy?" Naril demanded, his eyes glaring with suspicion.

Rohan smiled innocently and gave him a feigned look of ignorance. "I recognize the mark there. The Dragonborn was here in Solitude about four years ago and he let me hold his sword. That same mark was carved into the pommel."

Behind the counter, Fihada shook his head angrily. "If that's the case, then I'm definitely not buying this! If the Thalmor catch wind that I have a weapon made by the Dragonborn, they'll assume I've got an alliance with him and they'll throw me in prison, unless they kill me first!"

Naril turned to the Redguard merchant. "Come on, this kid is full of shit! How would he know what the Dragonborn forges?"

"It doesn't matter. Take that bow and get out of my shop! Not even dragonbone is worth the risk of becoming an enemy of the Thalmor!"

"But—"

"Out! Before I call the city guard!"

Rohan watched Naril carefully as his face darkened with rage and he appeared to want to argue more, but he cut his losses and snatched the bow off the counter, storming out of the shop. He made it a point to bump his shoulder hard against Rohan's as he passed and shot him a dirty look. It was only when the door slammed shut that Fihada turned to Rohan.

"So sorry about that, Rohan; did you need anything?"

Rohan shook his head, staring at the door. "Nay, what I need just walked out the door. And you'd probably be a lot better off if you pretended that Dunmer never set foot in here today."

The Redguard stared at him, his gaze becoming extremely serious as he leaned forward and quiet asked, "Why? What's going on? Is that Dunmer in some sort of trouble?"

"Not yet, but he's going to be soon. Trust me, Fihada, it's better if you know as little as possible."

With that, Rohan rushed out of the shop to catch up with Naril. As he bolted out of The Fletcher, he had to skid to a halt and quickly duck his head down to avoid the punch Naril swung at him. The Dunmer's fists collided with the wooden doorframe and he swore loudly, shaking out his hand and looking at Rohan with a look of fury upon his face.

"What's your problem?" Rohan growled, straightening himself up and shoving Naril back.

"You just cost me a sale, you brat!" Naril spat, poking Rohan's chest with his finger. "I've been trying to get rid of this damned bow for days!"

Rohan resisted the overwhelming urge to take a swing at Naril and coolly replied, "No one in Skyrim would have bought that bow. They would have been too scared of pissing off either the Thalmor or the Dragonborn. I don't envy being in either scenario."

"Maybe I got this from the Dragonborn himself!"

"Aye, and my father was a Falmer. Stop feeding me lies; I know the Dragonborn's mark. He carves it into every weapon he forges."

Naril paused and looked at the bow he held as if he had just seen the mark for the first time. Rohan could see the Dunmer's eyes flash with a mixture of guilt, shame, and anger for a brief moment.

_He's definitely hiding something, _Rohan thought to himself, looking the Dunmer up and down and studying him.

For a Dunmer, he wasn't too bad looking. He had the sharp, angular features of many of his race, his smooth, pale-gray skin only marred by a fading claw-mark scar along his cheek and framed by shoulder-length black hair. He was only a few inches taller than Rohan, but Naril was all done growing, while Rohan still had a few years left to reach his full height. And although the dark elf's body was lithe, he was made up of lean muscle from head to toe.

Rohan could already see how Kiraya could have been fooled by the Dunmer. Just one look at him would make you believe that you could trust him with your very life. But it seemed like Naril didn't deceive Kiraya for long, if the scar along his cheek was any indication. In all the years that Rohan had known her, he had become familiar with each and every aspect of her, including what any injuries caused by her sharp nails would look like.

_Those are Kiraya's scratch marks, _Rohan decided, staring at Naril's scar. _He knows what happened to her and he's hiding it._

"The Dragonborn didn't give you that bow," Rohan told Naril, looking down at the weapon. "So that can only mean that you stole that weapon from him or one of his family."

Naril's eyes widened at the accusation and he started to look around as if he were getting ready to make a run for it any direction so he could escape this situation. Rohan knew he couldn't risk allowing the Dunmer to run off, so he quickly tried to reassure him.

"Hey, take it easy," he said soothingly. "I'm not going to turn you in for stealing. In fact, I want to help you out, friend."

Naril eyed him suspiciously. "Help me out? How are you going to help me out?"

Rohan hooked his thumbs into his belt and smirked at him. "I've wanted to get my hands on a dragonbone weapon for years now. My father even offered the Dragonborn a hefty sum to craft me one, but the man refused. But here you are with the very thing I desire. I mean, it's not a sword like I would have preferred, but it's still better than nothing. I'm not too picky when the item I'm purchasing is stolen."

"Wait, you want to buy this bow?"

"Aye, I do. I'm willing to pay you handsomely for it too."

Naril stroked his goatee thoughtfully, looking at the bow before looking back at Rohan. "How handsomely?"

Without missing a beat, Rohan replied, "Two thousand Septims."

Kiraya's bow nearly fell from Naril's hands when Rohan bluntly spoke the amount. He could already see that he had the man baited with the high amount of gold he had just offered him and all that he needed to do was finish reeling him in.

"Well, do we have a deal?"

Naril looked him over and scoffed. "What are you, sixteen? There's no way that you have that kind of gold."

Rohan sighed and nodded. "You're right, I don't, but my father does and I can assure you he'll give me the gold if that bow is what I intend to buy."

The Dunmer's eyes brightened when he heard that and the corner of his lip turned up in a grin. "Well, then, that's a different story. It sounds like we have a deal, my friend."

_I'm not your friend, _Rohan thought bitterly. Aloud he said, "Excellent! We'll have to go to my house to get the money from my father."

"I don't want to intrude. Why don't you just get the gold and meet me at the Winking Skeever after?"

Rohan frowned, his mind racing as it tried to come up with an excuse for why that wouldn't work. He should have asked Finverior or Karliah what he should have done if this situation had come up, but he never thought of it. Of course it would make sense for them to finish the transaction in a public setting, if it were a normal situation; but they were trying to capture Naril, and for that to work, Rohan needed to get him to the ambush site outside of Proudspire.

"Uhm, that wouldn't work," Rohan said, his mind still trying to form an excuse.

Naril arched a brow. "Why not?"

"Because . . . uhm, because we wouldn't want anyone seeing you selling that bow. What if someone working for the Thalmor was around?"

"Eh, you wouldn't have to worry about the Thalmor, kid."

_What is _that _supposed to mean? _he wondered. "I'd still feel better if we did this at my house. Besides, my father would never let me take that much gold from the house. Just come on over with me and I'll even set you up with a nice bottle of wine for all your trouble."

Naril hesitated briefly, looking around the immediate area for a moment while he debated on whether or not to go with him. For a moment, Rohan thought he was going to say no and insist on completing the transaction. But then the Dunmer nodded.

"Very well, you lead the way."

Rohan smiled and jerked his thumb over his shoulder. "I live over in the residential district. So just follow me."

The Dunmer nodded and followed Rohan as he led him down the stairs, past the central marketplace and into the residential district. For several moments, they walked in tense silence, neither of them saying anything until Naril finally spoke up.

"So, what are you, the son of some rich noble?"

Rohan shot a glance over his shoulder. "Aye, something like that."

"Okay, what about your name?"

"Names are best kept to yourself when it comes to illegal dealings. I have no plans to maintain contact with you after this, so there's no point in exchanging identities."

Naril frowned, but nodded tersely. "Fine, we'll just walk silently then."

Rohan wordlessly thanked him for that, mostly because it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to maintain this façade much longer. It was taking every bit of his self-restraint to keep himself from beating Naril within an inch of his life. All the evidence up to this point proved that the elf had something to do with Kiraya's disappearance. The scar on his face and the fact that he had her bow would even suggest that he might have possibly done away with her.

_Don't think like that, _Rohan told himself, digging his nails into the palms of his hands. _Kiraya is alive. She has to be._

As Proudspire came into view, Rohan realized something. The moment that he led Naril into the ambush point he wouldn't be able to get the chance to confront the Dunmer about why he had Kiraya's bow or be able to possibly beat him up a bit. So Rohan made the decision to start screwing with the mer's mind now.

"You must be a very talented thief if you managed to steal that bow from the Dragonborn's daughter," Rohan said casually, looking straight ahead. "Even half-Khajiit, she still has amazing hearing and is almost impossible to sneak up on."

He could feel Naril's nervous stare on the back of his head. "What makes you think that this bow belonged to the Dragonborn's daughter?"

"Because the Dragonborn only wields greatswords and that bow is far too small to be the female Dragonborn's or Aela the Huntress's. Also because I've held that bow before. Whenever Kiraya and I would train together, she'd let me use her bow on occasion."

"K-Kiraya?" Naril's voice trembled as he spoke her name.

Rohan stepped into the small courtyard beside Proudspire and turned around to face Naril. The Dunmer's pale-gray skin was even paler and his brow had broken out in a cold sweat as he stared at Rohan in shock and fear. His red eyes darted from side to side and Rohan could see that he was figuring out what was going on.

"Aye, you know Kiraya, right?" Rohan continued, his voice dripping with malice. "She's the one who owns that bow and she's the one that gave you that scar."

Naril gulped and his mouth gaped as he struggled to speak. "H-how . . . what do you know?"

"Where is she, Naril?"

"How do you know my name?"

Rohan watched the young Dunmer start to back away, but he made no move to stop him because it was already too late for him. The moment that Rohan and Naril had entered the courtyard, Lassarina's thieves had started to move in, blocking all potential exits the elf could take. But Rohan _was _surprised to see one hulking body step directly in Naril's path, his disguise glamour gone and his pale-blue eyes blazing with rage as he glared down at the oblivious Dunmer. Naril didn't even know how serious the danger he was in was until he finally bumped into Einarr's wide, muscular chest. He turned to look at what blocked his path and let out a warbled cry of shock.

"Good job leading him here, Rohan," Einarr growled, his fists clenched at his sides, a sharp dagger in one.

Naril gasped and whirled around to face him. "Wait, _you're _Rohan?"

Rohan glared at the elf. "Know who I am, do you? No doubt Kiraya told you about me if your reaction is any indication. I'll bet you didn't count on any of us coming to look for you, did you? I'll bet you thought you could do whatever it is you did to her and you wouldn't have to suffer any consequences."

Einarr drew his hand above Naril's head, a dagger poised and ready to strike the Dunmer with the pommel.

Rohan's eyes flashed and he nodded. "Well, it's time for you to learn that your actions have consequences."

Naril didn't have a chance to reply, since Einarr brought down the pommel and the Dunmer toppled to the ground, unconscious.

**oOo**

Einarr leaned against the cellar wall, glaring at the unconscious Dunmer they had chained to one of the wooden columns. The blow he had delivered to Naril's head had proven to be too effective and he had been waiting nearly three hours for a chance to interrogate the young man. His sister had done her best to heal the damage he inflicted, but only time and patience would rouse Naril, two things Einarr didn't have. So he chose to stand a silent vigil in front of his prisoner, waiting for the moment he would wake.

"Standing there staring at him isn't going to make him wake any sooner," spoke a gentle voice.

Einarr instinctively perked up and turned his head toward the stairs, seeing Assa moving over to him with a steaming plate of food in one hand and a tankard in the other. His stomach rumbled when the smell of roasted venison reached his nose, and he resisted the urge to lick his lips and let out a growl of appreciation.

"I want to be here when he wakes," Einarr explained, turning back to stare at Naril.

"And I can already tell I'll have no luck getting you to come upstairs to eat any of the dinner that your sister and I made for everyone, which is why I brought you a plate," Assa explained with a smile, holding the plate out for him.

"Know me so well already, do you?"

"You may be the Dragonborn, Einarr, but you're still a man, and all men tend to think alike. I thought you'd be flattered that I thought of you at all."

He chuckled and gave her a fond smile. "Aye, it's very flattering, Assa."

She waved the plate in front of him a bit. "Well, the food isn't going to eat itself."

Einarr looked at the plate, his mouth watering at the sight of the buttery roasted potatoes and the venison that looked tender enough to fall apart in his fingers. "It looks delicious, but I'll eat later."

"Nay, you'll eat now," she informed him firmly, handing him the plate and making sure he had a good grip on it. "You need to eat and keep your strength up. We're in the middle of a war, and despite how you feel about Jarl Ulfric, you're a key asset for him. Besides, we don't need two Dragonborns starving themselves. Honestly, your sister looks thin enough for a breeze to knock her over."

Einarr frowned at the mention of his sister's physical well-being and tried not to think too much on how worried he himself was over her. She had already been emaciated when they had found her in the Thalmor prison, but even with the time that passed, she hadn't seemed to gain any weight. Vilkas had told him that she was barely eating and that she was drinking wine more often than anything. For Einarr, it seemed his sister wouldn't return back to her normal self and start taking care of herself until Lyanna was found and their family was whole again.

"Come on, Einarr, eat or I'll force the food into your stomach some way," Assa ordered him, snapping her fingers in front of his face to grab his attention.

Einarr growled a bit but didn't argue with Assa, knowing better than to talk back to and risk an argument with a Nord woman. Picking up the fork that she had speared through one of the potatoes, he took a small bite. That bite alone was enough to make him realize how hungry he was, and he started to shovel the food into his mouth as quickly as possible. In his haste to sate his hunger, a piece of food got stuck in his throat and he started to cough madly to clear himself of the obstruction.

"You're so impatient you can't even eat calmly," Assa giggled, handing over the tankard she held. "Here, drink this, you fool."

He took the tankard in his free hand, having set the fork down on the plate, and drank from it deeply. Once it washed down the obstruction in his throat, Einarr coughed a few more times to clear his throat and looked at Assa in confusion.

"Water?" he asked, holding up the mug.

"Aye, I thought it might be best if your judgment isn't clouded by alcohol when the elf does wake up."

"Always thinking of everyone's well-being, hmm?"

She smiled at him and shrugged. "Well, someone needs to keep a clear head in this situation. I think everyone is too personally involved to make logical choices right now."

Einarr's eyes narrowed and he stared at her. "Does that mean you don't think I'm in the right frame of mind right now? Are you going to be supervising my interrogation of him?"

"He's still a person, Einarr."

"A person who knows what happened to my daughter."

"You don't know that . . ."

"He had her bow! His face is scarred by her nails! He knows _something_ about what's happened to Kiraya, Assa, and I intend to find out what it is. When it comes to your children, all common sense and good judgment becomes obsolete."

She sighed and nodded once. "Aye, and as a parent I understand your feelings, but you have the look of murder in your eyes. I feel if you aren't watched, you may very well kill this boy."

"He is no boy! If he were, I would have planned to show him some mercy."

"Einarr, you're a good man. A hero and a beacon of hope in the eyes of every citizen of Skyrim. Young children look up to you, grown men want to be like you, and women want to know you. You're important to the people of this land. Please, don't become a monster."

"A monster?" Einarr snarled, his lips curling back and his eyes flashing dangerously. "What about him?" He pointed at Naril and glared at Assa. "He knows what happened to my daughter and I don't care about what lengths I have to go to find out what has become of my child!"

Assa's gray eyes met his in that moment, boring into his very soul. A whirlwind of emotions was swirling in them: compassion, understanding and one other he couldn't place. But above all that, recognition seemed to dawn upon her and she sucked in a sharp breath before looking down at the floor, her hair hiding her face.

"Just be the man I know you to be, Einarr."

Einarr turned away from her and refused to look back. While he valued her opinion and considered her a good friend whom he cared for dearly, she just couldn't understand his situation. Her daughter was safe and sound in Windhelm, while his was Kyne only knew where. He didn't even know if she was still alive.

_Nay, I can't think like that! _he chastised himself. _The moment I start to think that Kiraya is dead, then all hope is lost._

Suddenly, a pained groan escaped Naril's lips and Einarr turned his head to look at him. The Dunmer's red eyes slowly blinked open: and when he realized he was chained to a column, he started to struggle against the shackles, trying to free himself of his restraints. Einarr's body tensed as he watched the elf squirm and he grabbed Kiraya's bow from where he had it propped against the wall beside him. He hadn't been able to part with the weapon he had forged for his daughter since he relieved it from Naril's possession.

"What in Oblivion?" Naril grunted as he continued to fight against his bindings. His eyes finally landed on Assa and Einarr and he glared defiantly at them. "Where am I? Why am I chained like some criminal?"

Einarr started to move toward Naril, a look of determination upon his face and rage building up within him. Assa reached out for him, her hand landing lightly on his arm, but he snatched it out of her grasp and shot her a warning look.

"So you're Naril," he said as he stood in front of the chained man. "You've got a nice-looking face for a Dunmer, perfect for using as a weapon. No doubt it's how you got Kiraya to trust you, and I'm sure you're a pretty smooth talker if you could convince her to leave Windhelm without permission or informing anyone."

Naril's eyes were full of fear, and recognition dawned on his face the longer he stared at Einarr. "W-who are you?"

Einarr bared his teeth and got right up in Naril's face. "You know exactly who I am, filth. I'm Harbinger of the Companions, Dragonborn, and father of Kiraya. You see, we're going to have a nice, long talk, and you _are _going to tell me where she is. Mark my words."

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><p><em>Ohhhh snap! I left you on quite the cliffhanger, didn't I? What is in store for Naril next chapter? On a scale of one to ten, how fucked is he?<em>

_Anyways, I hope you all enjoyed this chapter dedicated to every single one of you! You're encouragement and the joy I get when I hear how much you love reading this series makes it all worth it!_

_Please make sure to **Fave/Follow/Review **and let me know what you think!_

_Love,_

_Mirage_


	25. Chapter 25

_Merry Christmas! My gift from me to all of you dear readers is a brand new chapter!_

_I already know what you're thinking; "Mirage, why did it take so long for this chapter to come out?" I will answer that right now. I moved to a different state, plain and simple. After the break-up with my ex I stayed with my Dad and older brother in Connecticut for a few months, but I didn't really feel comfortable being the only girl in an apartment with three guys, even if two of them were my blood relatives. So my new boyfriend suggested we do a trial run of living together before I made any permanent decisions on my living situation. So I stayed with him for a month and it turned out we are very compatible in many aspects, so I decided to just stay in Missouri with him. _

_Things got a little stressful with moving, but I got a brand new computer and I'm currently trying to get my life put together (I.E. Learning to Drive, Enrolling in a local college, getting a job). My updates probably won't be as regular as they were in the past, mainly because it's tough to write when I'm so busy, but I've making myself get at least one hour of writing done a day so I can keep this book series going and so you can all have something to read._

_So anyways, let's see where we left Einarr and Naril last time, shall we?_

_Musical Inspiration for this Chapter: One Way or Another by Blondie, Fingernails by Skillet, I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin_

_Hope you enjoy!_

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Five<strong>

**(13th of Midyear, 204 4E)**

"Einarr, stop it, you're killing him!" Assa screamed as he violently and repeatedly punch Naril.

But Einarr was too consumed by his rage to even hear Assa's desperate please. He was too focused on venting out all his anger and frustration on Naril. He was deep in the throes of a powerful bloodlust that he recognized and experienced many times before. It was his beast blood, the animal within that was fueling him and driving him to annihilate the pathetic Dunmer in front of him. With each strike and blow he fed the wolf and could feel him starving for more.

"Einarr, enough!" Assa shouted, rushing over and grabbing his arm.

Big mistake.

With a snarl of rage, Einarr shoved Assa aside roughly, sending the woman backwards and causing her to lose her balance. She fell into a stack of wooden crates that someone stored nearby and the sound of the wood cracking and splintering from the impact caused Einarr to freeze in shock. He stood there dumbstruck, just staring at Assa as she lay dazed amidst the debris. He could hear the sound of footsteps thundering down the steps and then a gasp of shock from the base.

"Einarr, what have you done?" his sisters voice demanded. She moved into his line of sight and knelt down beside Assa. "Assa, are you okay?"

Assa groaned and lifted her head slowly, shaking it to try and clear it. To Einarr's relief she didn't appear to be injured aside from a few scrapes and scratches that the fall had caused. Lassarina helped the woman to her feet and then Assa shocked everyone by walking right up to Einarr with a look of fury on her face. Without warning, she punched Einarr in the face, causing him to reel back, clutching his nose with one hand and feeling blood seep out from between his fingers.

"Control yourself!" Assa snapped at him, her gray eyes bright with pain, and Einarr could bet it wasn't just physical pain. "You can't just vent all of your anger on one person because you're frustrated, especially if that person can't even fight back!"

"Dibella's tits, man, what in Oblivion did you do to this kid?" Finverior exclaimed, alerting Einarr to his presence for the first time. He watched the Bosmer move over to Naril and check over his injuries. "His eyes are swollen shut!"

Vilkas had been right behind Finverior and looked over Naril himself. "He won't be able to breathe well if he doesn't get his nose fixed."

Lassarina moved to the injured Dunmer and started to heal him with Finverior assisting. "You were supposed to call us once he woke, Einarr! He would be dead if you had kept beating him!"

Einarr stood there silently, holding his nose and watching his sister and Finverior heal the Dunmer. He was mildly horrified by how out of hand he had gotten during his mindless attack of the elf. Naril's face was completely swollen, bruised and covered in his own blood. Vilkas didn't need to point out that the elf's nose was broken, the crooked angle and his shallow, whistling breathing was clear evidence. As the restoration magic did its work and the swelling around Naril's face began to go down, Einarr could see that he was still conscious and was mildly impressed.

"Please," Naril groaned pitifully. "Please, have mercy. No more . . . no more."

"Don't worry," Lassarina murmured soothingly. "You won't experience any more pain. You just need to answer some questions."

Naril looked up to stare at Lassarina, a complete stranger thanks to her glamour. "And who are you?"

"You know, if it wasn't for this glamour, I have no doubt that you'd know who I was, but for now let's just establish that I can be your best friend or your worst enemy."

The young Dunmer sucked in a breath and looked past her at Einarr. His red eyes filled with fear, he started to struggle against his bindings, attempting to escape. Finverior stepped forward, rolling his eyes at Naril's vain attempts, and grabbed his chin, glaring daggers at him.

"You really think we'd let you escape, kid? There are several trained thieves and warriors ready to catch you if can somehow miraculously get out of those shackles. I'd save my strength for your interrogation if I were you."

"There's no need for an interrogation because I don't know anything!" Naril snapped, his mouth trembling. "So you'd better just let me go!"

"Then why did you have this on you?" Einarr spat, grabbing Kiraya's bow and holding it up to the Dunmer's face.

Naril couldn't seem to stand gazing at the bow longer than a few seconds before his guilty eyes avoided it completely. "What about it? It's just a bow."

"A dragonbone bow that I gave my daughter. She'd never part with this. Now where is she, Naril?"

"I don't know what you're talking about, I've never even met your daughter!"

"Stop lying to me!" Einarr snarled, punching the wooden column right beside Naril's ear, causing the young mer to let out a yelp of fear.

"Einarr!" Lassarina shouted his name just as Vilkas grabbed his wrist in a firm grip, yanking it back. "Control yourself!"

But Einarr still continued to glare at Naril, his eyes like shards of ice. "Where did you get that scar on your cheek, hmm? Did my daughter do that to you?"

"Get him away from me!" Naril begged, struggling madly in his bonds. "He's going to kill me!"

"You're right about that," Finverior stated smoothly. "Unless you answer his questions, I don't think there's anything we can do to physically stop him from murdering you. So if I were you, I'd just tell him how you got the scar."

"A cat, okay? A cat scratched me."

Einarr was ready to call him out on his lie, but Lassarina had Vilkas pull him back some more while Finverior held up a hand, silently stopping Einarr from making another outburst and expressing that he wanted to handle this. So it was with great reluctance that Einarr allowed Vilkas to lead him back a few feet away from their prisoner.

"Look, I know you're the one who wants to do this, but trust me when I tell you to let Finverior handle this," Lassarina pleaded softly. "He may not be the most serious man in Tamriel, but he has experience with this kind of stuff. I doubt he spent all those years working for the Thalmor without learning a few tricks."

Einarr gritted his teeth, but saw reason through his sisters words. It was true, Finverior had a history with the Thalmor that could be used to their advantage in this situation. While it was still a mystery to all of them exactly what his work had entailed as a scout a spy for the Thalmor, Einarr trusted him to handle Naril's interrogation. For now.

"A cat, eh?" Finverior repeated, grabbing Naril's chin and forcibly turning his head so he could study the scar. "Well, that must have been one big cat. Wonder what you did to piss it off."

"Nothing," Naril replied gruffly, yanking his chin out of Finn's grasp. "It just scratched me."

"You sure about that? Cause cat's are small and if it wanted to claw you, it would have gone for your leg. Not to mention it looks a little too deep and wide for the paws of your average alley cat."

"What are you getting at, Bosmer?"

Finverior shrugged and turned his back to the dark elf. "I'm just saying, seems a little far fetched that a little cat scratched your face. Maybe a bigger cat could pull it off . . ."

"What, think a sabre cat got its claws on me?"

"Kid, if a sabre cat had gotten to you, you'd have more than just that tiny scar. You're probably be dead. No, I was thinking more along the lines of a Khajiit." Finverior paused and looked at his prisoner curiously. "Know any Khajiit, Naril?"

"That Dragonborn's daughter didn't scratch me!" Naril snapped, yanking on his shackles.

"Hey, hey, hey, what makes you think I was even talking about his daughter?"

"You asked me if I knew any Khajiit–"

"– And how would you know that she's Khajiit if you've never met her?"

Naril's mouth opened, but no sound came out as the dark elf realized his mistake. Einarr's brows rose, extremely impressed by how Finverior had managed to trap the young Dunmer so easily. He could clearly see their captive trying to come up with a way to talk his way out of this hole he dug himself into, but was struggling.

"I- I haven't," Naril finally stuttered. "But everyone in Skyrim knows that his daughter is half-Khajiit."

"Hmm, you've got me there," Finverior conceded, scratching at the bit of stubble on his chin. "But if you've never met Einarr's daughter, then can you explain to me how you ended up in possession of her bow?"

Einarr watched Naril bite the inside of his cheek before he answered, "Look, I'm a courier and I come across a lot of stuff just lying abandoned near the main roads when I'm traveling. It's how I got the bow; I just found it abandoned on the side of the road."

"Where was it that you found it exactly?"

"By the road in The Reach, a few miles outside of Rorikstead."

Finverior nodded slowly and started to pace back and forth in front of the restrained Dunmer. "Ah, I see . . . well that's unfortunate. That part of Skyrim is crawling with bandits and Reachmen. I'd hate to say it, Einarr, but your daughter is probably dead."

Einarr's eyes narrowed and his nostrils flared dangerously. "That's it then? You told me to trust him, Lassarina!"

"Nay, Einarr, I'm sure that Finn isn't going to leave it at that," his sister reassured him. "Just be patient."

"You're letting your anger get the best of you again," Assa added snappily.

Just then Finverior snapped his fingers. "Actually, I just remembered there was one other thing I wanted to ask you about, if that's okay with you."

"No! No more questions!" Naril shouted. "I want you to let me go right now! I'll even do you a courtesy and give you ten minutes to run out of town before I send Imperial soldiers after you!"

"Tell you what, Naril, I'll personally turn myself in if you can clear up this one last thing for me."

Naril hesitated, looking around the room as if trying to find some method of escape. Einarr could tell that the young dark elf was reluctant to answer any questions Finverior had, on account of fearing he'd get caught in a lie. But any refusal to answer could and would be seen as an admission of guilt in their eyes, and Naril knew that.

"Fine, what is it then?" Naril muttered, looking down at his own feet.

Finverior smiled reassuringly and leaned in closer to the Dunmer. "You're a courier, yes?"

Naril eyed his interrogator suspiciously. "Yes . . ."

"And I heard from a friend that you're stationed in Windhelm. In fact, you may not recognize her right now, but one of the women behind me is Thane there and has seen you before."

"He's personally delivered letters to my house before," Assa put in helpfully.

"What's the point?" Naril demanded impatiently.

"The point is that for the past two months, the Dragonborn's daughter has been living in Windhelm," Finverior clarified. "Do you mean to tell me that you've never once run into her?"

"I tend to stay where Ulfric designated where me and the rest of my people belong. In that cesspool everyone calls the Gray Quarter."

Finverior narrowed his eyes dangerously and pulled a folded piece of parchment out from one of his pockets. "Then why do I have this letter, written by Einarr's daughter, saying she was coming here to Solitude with her friend named Naril."

"Just because we have the same name doesn't mean that I'm the Naril she's speaking of."

Finverior turned his head an inch to the side, keeping his piercing amber eyes on the prisoner in front of him. "Assa, dear, you'd probably know the answer to this. Exactly how many citizens with the name Naril live in Windhelm?"

Assa crossed her arms and nodded her head to the column. "Only one, and you're looking at him.

"Maybe this Naril in the letter wasn't a citizen of Windhelm," Naril suggested, his voice becoming noticeably desperate. "You people are just looking for any excuse to convict me!"

"Then explain the Khaiit who says he saw and spoke to Einarr's daughter before she disappeared!" Finverior shouted, finally dropping his friendly demeanor. "According to him, she said she was traveling with a Dunmer and had purchased toys for two small boys."

"There are hundreds of Dunmer living in Skyrim. Do you know how common the name Naril is? Very!"

"All right, so here's what we know," Finn continued, ignoring Naril's outburst. "Einarr's daughter was heading to Solitude with a Dunmer named Naril and was last seen in Morthal. And here we have a Dunmer named Naril who hails from Windhelm, currently in possession of a dragonbone bow that was forged by Einarr and given to his daughter."

"I told you, I just picked it up near Morthal–"

"Morthal? Now I thought you said you found it near Rorikstead?"

Naril flinched and started to babble. "That's what I meant, you're just confusing me!"

"Are you confused because you're really lying and can't even keep your story straight?"

"No, I–"

"Because you really _do _know where Einarr's daughter is?"

"I'm telling you, I don't have anything to do with Kiraya's disappearance!"

And right there was his biggest mistake, one that everyone in the room, including Naril himself, noticed immediately. Einarr bared his teeth in a snarl and his pupils started to dilate in the beginning of his werewolf transformation. His canines started to elongate in his mouth and he didn't need to look down to know the hair on his arms was becoming coarser and thicker. His sister noticed the telltale signs of change that were coming upon him and dug her nails into his arm, using pain to drag his focus from his anger.

"Is this really the place to do that?" she whispered directly into his ear.

Einarr forced himself to calm down and felt his wolf recede into that dark corner of his mind once more. He had to keep his anger in check right now, especially with Assa in the room. Taking a few deep breaths, he watch Finverior get right up in Naril's face.

"That's strange, I don't think I recall ever mentioning her name. So how did you now it if you've never met her before, Naril?"

"Because, ugh, I– uhm, well–"

"It's because you _did _meet her, didn't you? You talked her into leaving Windhelm with you, because the Kiraya I know isn't the type to do something as dangerous and reckless as traveling all the way across the country without an adult! But when you reached Morthal you abandoned her and robbed her! Admit it, Naril!"

"I'll admit nothing because I did nothing!"

"Really?" Lassarina intervened then, her eyes cold and calculating. "Are you sure that's the testimony you want to stick with, Naril?"

The Dunmer stared st her, his entire body quivering as he remained silent.

Lassarina stared right back, her gaze unwavering, but after a few moments of complete silence she sighed heavily. "Very well, but just remember, I gave you a chance to confess." She moved toward the stairs and called out loudly, "Rune, bring what you found!"

Einarr kept his eyes focused on Naril as his sister walked back over, her footsteps barely audible despite the silence in the room. She stood beside Finverior in front of Naril, both of them with their arms cross.

"I knew the name because that kid you had lead me here said it right before I was captured!" Naril told them, fighting to get free, his chest heaving with panic.

"It doesn't change anything," Lassarina stated simply as she turned her gaze toward Rune, who had just reached the bottom of the stairs and was carrying a familiar looking pack in his arms.

"That's Kiraya's pack!" Einarr gasped, recognizing it instantly since he had been the one to help her make it.

"I took the liberty of sending a couple of my thieves down to your room at the Winking Skeever after we had captured you," Lassarina told Naril, taking the pack from Rune and thanking him. "This pack and all of its contents belong to Kiraya. Her clothing, books, quiver of dragonbone arrows, they're all in here, as well as two childrens toys she no doubt bought for a couple of little boys. Two toys, just like the ones the Khajiit merchant sold to her."

Naril's lips began to quiver as Lassarina spoke, but he remained silent still and she continued.

"There was also a diary inside. I'll bet you didn't know she kept one, huh, Naril? I'll bet you also didn't know that she writes in it every day if she's able. Now I wouldn't dare pry into my niece's private belongings, but I made an exception in this case and only read the last few passages she had written right before her disappearance. It just so happens that your name came up a lot, and she even wrote a nice little description of you. In her words, you actually seem like a nice guy."

Einarr scoffed and the hold on his patience finally slipped away. He decided he had enough of letting someone else handle this situation for him and stepped forward, shoving his sister and Finverior to the side. Naril managed to let out a shout of fear just before Einarr's hand closed around his throat.

"Enough of this!" he barked in the Dunmer's face. "You will tell me where my daughter is. Right now."

Naril made a choking sound, but no words came out. Assa had to step forward and glare at Einarr. "How do you expect him to answer you if you're choking him too hard to be able to speak?"

Einarr saw the reasoning in her words and loosened his grip just enough for Naril to be able to speak. "There. Now talk."

Naril sucked in a gasping breath and tired vainly to shake his head. "I don't know anything. That red-haired kid said her name to me! Her pack was with the bow!"

"Enough, Naril, it's over," Lassarina said with an exasperated sigh. "Even if you hadn't known her name, the evidence we have against you goes far beyond coincidence. It's best if you just give up and tell us what we want to know."

"No . . ."

"Come on, confess already! We know you're guilty!"

"I can't."

"You can't? Well guess what, I can't protect you from the wrath of the man currently gripping your throat if you don't answer. It's a damned miracle he's shown _this_ much restraint."

As if to back-up her point, Einarr squeezed Naril's throat a little harder, making the Dunmer choke and struggle for air. After a few seconds of strangling, he eased up to allow his captive to speak.

"Please, you don't understand," Naril pleaded, tears streaming down his face. "I can't talk!"

"Nay, you can, you just chose not to," Lassarina spat at him.

"Please . . . they'll kill me."

Suddenly Vilkas spoke up behind them. "Wait, what did he say?"

Lassarina held up her hand to silence her husband and glared at Naril. "_Einarr_ will kill you if you don't start talk soon."

"Love, wait just a moment," Vilkas interrupted again, walking over and placing a hand on her shoulder.

Einarr saw his sister turn to glare at him out of the corner of his eye. ""Vilkas, I am handling this."

"Would you just trust me for a moment? Allow me a couple of moments with the lad, I think I know why he refuses to talk."

Lassarina turned to Einarr and they both shared a silent conversation, debating on whether or not to give Vilkas the chance to get Naril talking. Finally they both sighed in defeat and backed away, Naril letting out a strangled cry the very second Einarr released his throat. He made sure to growl right in the boys face before he walked away and joined his sister.

"Naril," Vilkas began gently, his voice soothing as he spoke to the sobbing Dunmer. "You said that if you talked, they would kill you. Who are they?"

Naril spoke his head and continued to cry. "No . . . I can't. She won't tolerate betrayal."

"Naril, we can protect you from whoever she is, but only if you tell us. Please, a little girl's life is on the line."

Vilkas fell silent and the only sound in the room was Naril soft moans of pain and misery. When the Dunmer kept shaking his head and refused to speak, Vilkas finally said:

"It's the Thalmor, isn't it?"

The look of pure terror that crosses Naril's face in that moment was enough to ensure that Vilkas was right, but it was almost nearly enough to make Einarr feel sorry for the poor sod. His entire body was trembling and his red eyes were so wide that they were practically bulging from out of his head.

"Please, you have to let this go!" Naril begged Vilkas. "If you retaliate against them or try and take her back, they'll all of us! She's mad with power and will do anything to keep it!"

Lassarina marched forward while Naril's panicked words spilled from his lips and stood in front of him, her body tense and slightly trembling. "You're talking about Elenwen, aren't you? That sadistic bitch has Kiraya?"

"What?" Einarr shouted, now even terrified for Kiraya's life than her was before. He had seen first hand what the cruel Thalmor Emissary was capable of after having rescued Lassarina from the Thalmor prison and had overheard her and Ulfric talking about the torture they endured at her hands.

"Where is she keeping her, Naril?" Lassarina demanded, grabbing Naril by the shoulders and shaking him roughly. "Where is that woman keeping my niece?!"

A shocking realization dawned on Naril then and he stared at the glamoured Lassarina with shock and awe. "You're her . . . You're the other Dragonborn; Lassarina Stormcloak. Then you know! You know what she is capable of! Please, Kiraya is safe so long as you don't interfere anymore! Elenwen is just using her as leverage! I promise you she's not in any danger!"

"You and I both know that's a lie!"

Naril's mouth snapped shut and his lips trembled as an unbearable guilt and sorrow flooded his features and the Dunmer began to cry all over again. Lassarina's words must have struck a chord with him and Einarr was digusted watching the boy wallow in his own emotional agony.

"I had to do as she commanded me," Naril said, his voice thick with tears. "You can't refuse her orders, you'll be made an example of if you do."

"Where is my daughter, Naril?" Einarr asked him again, his voice now pleading and desperate.

Naril shook his head slowly and smiled bitterly. "She was so trusting, never even suspected I had ulterior motives . . . If things had been different we actually could have been friends. Your daughter . . . she's too good for a world like this. So sweet and naive . . . I both admired her for it and feared for her. She's so brave too, willing to travel across the entire country all with the sole intent of seeing her best friend."

It pained Einarr to hear Naril speak of Kiraya in this way, mostly because he could hear true feeling and sentiment in his words. Even though he had betrayed Kiraya and sold her out to Elenwen, Naril had grown to care for her during the time they spent together. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he walked up to the restrained Dunmer, his sister stepping aside so he could place both his hands on his shoulders. Naril looked at him when he did that and must have been shocked to see Einarr's eyes watering.

"The way you speak of my daughter means you care about her," Einarr said. "So I'm begging you, as a man who only wants his daughter back safe and sound: Please tell me where she is, Naril."

Naril stared at him for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing several times in that span. Finally his body slackened beneath his touch and he leaned against the pillar, looking utterly defeated.

"North of Morthal, along the beach, there's a manor on a hill, at the base of a small mountain. You'll find Kiraya there, guarded by at least ten Thalmor soldiers."

Einarr let out a huge sigh of relief and squeezed Naril's shoulders. He was glad he had his daughters location now, but felt conflicted since now he had no idea what to do with Naril.

Lassarina came up to him then and looked at the Dunmer. "My daughter, she's only a baby, Elenwen took her from me a few months ago. Tell me, is my Lyanna there as well?"

Naril lifted his head a bit to look at Lassarina before shaking it. "No . . . Elenwen is keeping her somewhere else, but believe me when I tell you I do not know where. She only discloses information like that with people she trusts."

Einarr could see his sister's eyes shut tightly and pain course through her entire being at the news, but she sucked in a breath and forced herself to smile at him. "Well, at least now we know where Kiraya is. And maybe one of the soldiers there knows where Lyanna is."

Einarr smiled back at his sister and reached out to hug her. "Aye, maybe."

Vilkas stepped in then and held out his arms to take Lassarina into them and offer her more comfort than Einarr could. Once his sister was out of his embrace, he looked down at Naril and stared at him, Finverior walking over and voice the question in everyone's head.

"What do we do with him now?"

Assa was there with an answer almost immediately. "We can keep him as a prisoner of war. He'd serve his time and maybe after some time, he can be released and try and make up for his mistakes."

"It'll have to do for now," Einarr agreed, not having the heart to just kill Naril. "But for now, we have a rescue mission to plan."

He turned to face everyone in the room when suddenly the whole house shook and a familiar roar reached all of their ears, causing some to stiffen in fear while Einarr and Lassarina simply looked at one another knowingly. It was only moments later that someone noisily rushed down the stairs and a breathless Farkas came into view, pointing up at the ceiling and struggling to catch his breath.

"There's a dragon flying around the city," he told Einarr and Lassarina specifically.

"Aye, we figured," Lassarina sighed, checking her belt for her daggers and making for the stairs.

But Farkas stopped her. "Nay, you don't understand. It's not attacking."

Einarr arched a brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"It's the dragon you captured. It's Odahviing."

* * *

><p><em>Oh dear... Is that another famous Mirage cliffhanger? You're damn straight it is! I'm sorry (not sorry) that I leave you guys on the edge like this, but know it's only cause I love you all!<em>

_I hope you enjoyed the chapter and if I could ask you all for one favor and leave some reviews? Hearing from all of you really gets me motivated to write more and I'm in a bit of a writers funk lately. It can be your Christmas present to me!_

_Anyways, I hope you all enjoy the holidays, may your christmas, hannukah, and/or kwanza be merry, and Happy Festivus for the rest of us!_

_Please make sure to **Fave/Follow/Review **and let me know what you think!_

_Love,_

_Mirage_


	26. Chapter 26

_Hey everyone!_

_Sorry that this chapter took me so long, I have just had zero motivation to write recently and have mainly been absorbed with playing Elder Scrolls Online. But I forced myself to write this much. It isn't my longest chapter and certainly not one of my best, but I'm satisfied with the way it turned out and I hope you all enjoy it!_

_Please remember, Reviews equal love!_

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Twenty-Six<strong>

**(13****th ****of Midyear, 205 4E)**

The city of Solitude was in an open panic, even though it was late in the night. The city guard was shouting at civilians still in the streets to seek shelter within their homes and were aiming their bows up at the sky for a dragon that they could barely see. But for Lassarina's sharper eyes, it was easy to spot Odahviing flying around the Castle Dour, his own keen eyes scanning the streets. The dragons black eyes locked with her own and he started to land, paying no mind to the guards shouting in fear as they sprinted to get away. The ground shook at he touched down and crawled the rest of the way to Lassarina, who was standing stock still in the shadow of one of the buildings.

"_Rekdovah, zu'uh lost rund hi_," his voice rumbled pleasantly. "I have finally found you."

"You must truly be insane to land inside a city full of guards," she snapped at the red dragon. "Have you no concern for your life?"

Odahviin growled in a manner that Lassarina recognized as laughter. "I do not fear these puny _jul. _Should they be foolish enough to attack me they will taste my thu'um."

"Why are you here, Odahviing?"

"I could taste the scent of you and your _zeymah _on the winds as I flew by. I saw his _yunkliin, _his hatchling, four nights past."

Lassarina felt her heart stop in that moment and she stared at the dragon in shock. "You saw Kiraya?"

Odahviin was about to answer her, but let out a growl of pain when an arrow pierced his side. Lassarina gasped and turned her head to see a group of the city guard approaching cautiously, some with bows drawn and others with swords at the ready. Knowing she wouldn't be able to speak to Odahviing inside the city, she gritted her teeth and turned back to the dragon.

"You need to leave, Odahviing," she said. "We can't speak in peace with all these guards around. Fly away from the city and north toward a tall building built on the shore. We will meet you there shortly."

Odahviing growled in ascent and turned toward the guard, using a dragonshout to knock the guards back so he could take off without detriment. Once he was a safe distance above, the guards started to run in her direction and Lassarina used the powers granted to her by Nocturnal to become one with the shadows and turn invisible. The group of guards balked when she just seemed to vanish into thin air and she quietly stepped around them, making her way back to Proudspire Manor where everyone was waiting for her return.

She waited until the guards voices had faded further down the street before dropping the Shadowcloak and letting herself into the manor. Immediately she was rushed by her brother, who had grabbed her by the shoulders and already questioning her.

"Why in Oblivion did Odahviing land in the street?" Einarr demanded.

Lassarina shoved him away so he'd release the tight grip he had on her shoulders and sighed. "It seems that Naril wasn't the only one who knew about Kiraya's whereabouts. Odahviing saw her four nights ago."

"He what? Did she escape? Does he know where she is now?"

"Einarr, I don't know!" she snapped at her brother. "The guards started attacking before he had a chance to answer me. I told him to fly toward the lighthouse to the north and wait for us to meet him there. We can wait for things do die down outside before heading out to speak with him."

Einarr raked his fingers through his hair in frustration and growled angrily. "We can't go now?"

"Not with all the guards patrolling the streets," Avyanna chimed in from where she sat by the fireplace, rocking her son Kellen to sleep. "They won't let anyone out of the city until they're sure it's safe. You'll have to wait a few hours, Einarr."

Lassarina sympathized with her brother, knowing the pain he was feeling of having his child in the hands of the enemy. She felt it everyday that Lyanna was still with the Thalmor, constantly trying to keep herself from breaking under the pressure and stop herself from picturing scenarios where her precious daughter was being tortured and mistreated. Reaching out, she squeezed Einarr's shoulder and hugged him.

"Don't worry, Einarr, we'll just wait a couple of hours and then head out."

Her brother nodded and moved away, over to the kitchen. Everyone stared at each other uncomfortably for a minute before Assa finally stood up and followed him. Lassarina smiled at the Nord woman and gave her an appreciative nod. She really liked Assa and could tell just by seeing how the woman looked at Einarr that she was starting to fall for him. Maybe after everything was over, her brother might finally have another crack at love and return Assa's affections. If there was anyone who deserved a shot at a normal life, it was him.

**oOo**

A couple of hours later, after they waited for the city guard to settle down on the streets, Einarr and Lassarina headed out, accompanied with Assa, Vilkas, and Karliah. The elder Nightingale had volunteered to come with them because with her years of experience being a thief, bypassing guards was second nature to her and would come in handy if they wanted to avoid anyone as they left from and returned to Solitude. They left Farkas, Rune and Finverior in charge of watching over Naril and make sure that he didn't get out or that no one else found him.

Waiting for the majority of the guards to clear the streets had been a pain in everyone's arse since Einarr's ceaseless pacing had been putting everyone in Proudspire on edge. At one point Assa, Farkas and Vilkas had to drag him away from the basement stairs to prevent him from venting his anger and frustration out on Naril downstairs and Avyanna had to shout angrily at Rohan to go to his room with Trystane and Kellen because he wouldn't stop asking for news about Kiraya. Everyone had agreed not to tell Rohan who currently held Kiraya prisoner because they knew that he would want to come along to rescue her and that he would be infuriated when they forbid it.

So, needless to say, everyone was a little irritable as they traveled along the beach to the lighthouse Lassarina directed Odahviing towards further up the coast. Einarr led the way there at a very fast pace, while the rest of them struggled to follow him along the dark, sandy banks. Mudcrabs chittered angrily as they scuttled out of their way and a small group of horkers eyed them warily, the beach boss looking ready to protect his harem if needed.

"Keep up!" Einarr snapped at his companions as he shot a glare at the horker nearby.

"Why don't you slow down?" he heard his sister suggest in an annoyed and dry tone.

Stopping, he turned on his heels and stared down his sister, who was already glaring back at him with identical pale-blue eyes as sharp as daggers. He knew that she was just as on edge and as ready to snap as he was, but he really didn't want to deal with her attitude right now, even though his own was just as bad, if not worse.

"We're not slowing down," he growled at her. "Every minute we waste, Kiraya is subjected to whatever sick shit those Thalmor bastards come up with."

Lassarina reeled back a bit and her face grew red as rage filled her. "And you think I don't know that? My daughter is still with those same bastards, Einarr! I'm helping you get Kiraya back, not even knowing if Lyanna is with her or not! So don't you snap on me just because I asked you to fucking slow down!"

"Calm down, both of you!" Assa spoke up as she and Vilkas stepped forward and stood between them.

"Aye, the pair of you arguing is only wasting even more time," Vilkas added. "So just end your fight now before it gets worse. We're all working to get our children back from the Thalmor, the last thing we need to do is turn on each other."

"Not to mention you have a dragon to meet who can offer you immense help," Karliah chimed in with her soothing voice. "You should be holding onto that anger until you're face to face with the ones who wronged you."

Einarr winced slightly as he realized that they were right. Arguing with his sister right now _would_ be counter-productive and it wasn't even her he was angry with. The Thalmor were the bad guys. They were the ones that had their daughters and they were the ones who were ruining their lives. Frowning, he shot his sister an apologetic look, which she returned, but they spoke no words as they continued walking up the coast.

The lighthouse was already in their sights, the light shining across the inky black sea. Einarr's eyes were already scanning for Odahviing, but in the dead of night, even with some of the lighthouse's glow to brighten the area, it was going to be difficult to spot the dragon. He was beginning to grumble irritably to himself, when his sister stepped forward and spoke a simple word.

"_Laas._"

A few seconds past as her eyes scanned the area before they fixed themselves on one spot and she pointed. "There."

Einarr stupidly squinted to try to see what she was seeing, but then he shook his head and whispered the dragon shout Lassarina had done. His vision changed and red auras lit up the darkness. Every life-force around was now visible to him, from the mudcrabs scuttling along the sand, to the exceptionally large form in the trees that could only be a dragon.

"That shout really comes in handy," he said as he started walking toward Odahviing.

His sister chuckled beside him as she followed. "Bet you feel foolish for trying to see in the dark now, don't you?"

Einarr glared at her out of the corner of his eye and shook his head. "Shut up."

He led the group over to the dragon, knowing exactly where he was going even after the shout had worn off and he could no longer see in the darkness. Luckily his werewolf senses were still heightened and the scent of dragon had already reached him. It wasn't long until he heard Odahviings breathing and a low threatening growl.

"_Bo nid zugut,_" Odahviing's voice surrounded them.

Einarr squinted to try and see better and after a moment, he could make out Odahviings enormous form, his eyes glowing in the darkness. "Odahviing, it's me and my sister."

"_Dovahkiin_." There was a moment of silence and the ground shook as the dragon crawled forward. "_Til los vorey. _You two did not come alone."

"Nay, but that doesn't matter," Lassarina said as she walked forward confidently, stopping beside Odahviing's flank and yanking an arrow out. "Couldn't bother with taking these out?"

Odahviing growled in annoyance. "_Duziir joor. _You show very little respect to my kind, _rekdovah._"

"Enough idle chat!" Einarr shouted, his voice echoing around them. "Where's my daughter, Odahviing?"

The dragon huffed irritably, but turned his massive head toward Einarr as he answered, "Another _dovah _tried to move in on _dii deylok, _my territory, and we fought over it. Our battle became heated, razing the earth and moving beside the dwelling of _yuvonfahliil, _the golden mer. I had noticed their presence when they first moved into _dii deylok, _but I paid them no mind until I spotted your _yunkliin _outside their dwelling. She seemed distressed and then the _yuvonfahliil _attacked me and then her. I was forced to flee because of their _lu, _they shot spells of ice that injured me greatly, but I witnessed them carrying her back to their dwelling as I flew away."

Einarr felt a pang of terror at the knowledge of his daughter being attacked by Altmer. "You didn't try and rescue her?"

"There were too many for me to fight and I had already been weakened by the other _dovah. _I thought it wiser to seek you out _Dovahkiin, _to tell you where your _yunkliin _was."

"And where is she?"

"Across the waters, east of here. The _slaag _are holding her in a large _wahlaan _on the beach."

Lassarina looked at Einarr. "It checks out with what Naril told us."

Einarr nodded and a fierce look of hope and determination entered his eyes for his sister and companions to see. "We shouldn't waste anymore time then," he said, smiling for the first time. "We need to go rescue my daughter."

"Odahviing, could you take Einarr and I on your back?" Lassarina asked the dragon.

Before Odahviing could answer, Vilkas interrupted, "Hold on, love, you're not possibly thinking of going to face gods know how many Thalmor just the two of you, are you?"

"Well, I was hoping Odahviing could help too."

"We _are _Dragonborn," Einarr put in.

"But you aren't invincible," Assa told him, standing beside Vilkas. "Neither of you are. I've seen the scars on your body, Einarr. Dragon fang marks; exactly how close to death you were at the end of that encounter?"

_Too close, _Einarr thought to himself, wincing slightly at the memory that plagued his nightmares every once in a blue moon.

"Lassarina, you've danced with death too many times for even I to allow you to go with just your brother," Karliah added, giving her a concerned look. "Mercer . . . The Thalmor. You both need back up in this one."

"Not to mention Elenwen may be there," Assa pointed out. "She's a powerful mage, so you can't just barge in without support."

Einarr sighed heavily, knowing they were right. He honestly did wish that he and his sister could merely mount Odahviing and fly there themselves. But looking closely at Odahviing, Einarr could now see that the dragon bore some still healing wounds and wouldn't be at his full strength in a fight against soldiers and mages. He didn't want to risk the noble dragon's life anymore than it already had.

"Maybe you all are right," Lassarina murmured.

"Nay, they are," Einarr confirmed, frowning deeply. "We need help with this one. We'll return to Solitude, pack our belongings and head to Morthal, all of us together."

"If we take a boat and cross the gulf in it, we'd cut days off our trip," Assa suggested. "It's all a matter of stealing a vessel."

"Something I can easily help with," Karliah offered. "I have Talen-Jei wrapped around my finger and he can get us access to a ship large enough to carry our group."

"Then let us waste no more time and return to Solitude," Einarr ordered with a nod. "We want to leave within an hour after we return." Turning to Odahviing, he dipped his head to the dragon. "Odahviing, thank you for bringing me this information."

"_Niid, _I felt it my _heyv, _my duty, to bring you information on your _yunkliin,_" Odahviing crooned, dipping his head to Einarr. "You have proven yourself worthy to lead to _dovah _who would follow you, _Dovahkiin. _It is in our better interest to keep you satisfied."

Einarr smirked slightly at that and turned to his companions, nodding and motioning them to start moving. They traveled along the beach, back to Solitude and had an easier time sneaking in than getting out. When they returned to Avyanna and Farkas's home, Vilkas unlocked the door and the sight that greeted them upon entering left them all speechless.

Finverior and Farkas were collapsed on the floor in front of them and Avyanna was seated limply in the same chair as when they left. Heart hammering in his chest, Einarr knelt beside Farkas and checked his pulse with shaking hands. He let out a sigh of relief when he felt the strong thump beneath his fingers and realized that they had been merely been knocked out. But that sense of danger soon returned as he wondered who could have done this to them and he stood up, retrieving his greatsword from where it hung on his back.

"Vilkas, Karliah, go downstairs and check on Rune and the prisoner," Lassarina ordered them.

Einarr watched the two head down to the basement, weapons ready while his sister rummaged through Finveriors pack and pulled out a vial filled with leaves.

"What is that?" Assa asked her, a sword in either hand as she looked around cautiously

"This will wake everyone up from whatever it is that knocked them out," Lassarina explained, yanking the cork from the vial and waving it under Finverior's nose.

The Bosmer let out a choked gasp and his eyes flew open. "Shor's Stone, woman, get that shit away from me."

Lassarina scoffed and quickly woke Farkas and Avyanna in a similar fashion. "This shit just woke your knocked out ass up."

Avyanna groaned from her seat and held a hand to her head. "What in Oblivion happened?"

"You mean you don't know?" Einarr asked them.

Farkas went to stand beside his wife and shook his head wearily. "Nay, one moment we were standing around, drinking some mead and discussing what to do about Naril once we left to rescue Kiraya, next thing we know, everything went black."

"This mead?" Assa asked, picking up a bottle from the floor.

Einarr took the bottle from her and took a quick sniff of it, curling his lip when he detected the faint trace of Sleeping Tree Sap. A drop alone was enough to make you sleep soundly.

"You were all drugged," he growled, throwing the bottle down to the floor and making it shatter upon impact.

The noise caused Kellen to start crying from upstairs and Avyanna immediately jumped to her feet and dashed up the steps to check on her infant son. As the scarlet-haired woman left, Vilkas and Karliah returned, both looking grim and infuriated.

"Rune is in the same state as everyone else," Karliah explained. "And the prisoner is gone."

Einarr felt his blood boiling while he paced angrily back and forth in front of the fireplace. "How in Oblivion did that little skeever manage to escape his bindings and drug you all without anyone realizing it?"

"Actually," Finverior spoke up, sitting down in a chair and sighing heavily. "I don't think it was Naril who did this."

Lassarina had passed the vial of leaves to Karliah so she could go down and wake Rune and turned to Finverior, narrowing her blue eyes at him angrily. "Then who did? Was it you, Finverior? Because I searched Naril's pack and I never found any Sleeping Tree Sap in there, not to mention we all know that you use that stuff to sleep."

The Bosmer frowned deeply and looked over at Farkas, who looked like he just had a revelation. "After you all left, we were all talking about potential plans to rescue Kiraya and Rohan may have overheard us."

"Anna had to tell him that he wouldn't be going with all of you to rescue her from the Thalmor," Farkas continued, pinching the bridge of his nose. "We all expected an argument, but he was actually being very calm and rational about everything and even went to the kitchen to get us some meads before he brought one downstairs to Rune."

"Wait a moment," Einarr interrupted, looking back and forth between the two of them. "Are you telling me that–"

"Farkas!" Avyanna suddenly screamed from upstairs. Everyone turned to the stairs just as Avyanna ran down, breathing heavily with a look of panic in her eyes. "Rohan isn't upstairs and his traveling gear is missing!"

At that moment, Einarr turned to look at the rest of his friends and family and could tell they had all guess what had happened.

Rohan had broken Naril out and went to go rescue Kiraya on his own.

**oOo**

Rohan grunted as another wave hit the boat and nearly caused the oar to sleep out of his hands and into the inky black water. Puffing his hair out of his face, he mentally told himself that the moment he had rescued Kiraya and brought her home, he was going to get his hair cut. Gripping both oars tighter in his grasp, he forced himself to keep paddling, even though the force of the current and the waves constantly slapping on the hull were quickly tiring him out.

"You know, if you untied me, I could help you row."

Rohan bit the inside of his cheek and glared at Naril from where his sat across from him. When Rohan had helped him escape his families capture, he made the Dunmer a promise that if he led him to and helped rescue Kiraya, that he would let him go free and leave with his life. The Dunmer had agreed to the terms, not even demanding any of his own and didn't struggle when Rohan had tied his wrists together behind his back.

"Nay, I can trust you just about as far as I can throw you," Rohan muttered as he forced himself to keep rowing.

"If you keep at it on your own, by the time we reach the place they're keeping Kiraya prisoner, you'll be too worn out and exhausted to fight if a threat arises," Naril argued. "Which, knowing the Thalmor, probably will."

"Not like you have to worry, since you work for them."

"I signed my life away the very second I revealed where Kiraya was being held. If I show up with you, I'll be just as dead once they start attacking."

"Well, then at least you'll have gotten what you deserved."

Naril glared at Rohan as he continued to row and started to squirm awkwardly.

Finding the movements suspicious, Rohan narrowed his eyes at him and asked, "What in Oblivion are you doing?"

As he finished speaking, Naril's hands moved out from behind his back, rope still hanging off one arm, and he brought them together to rub the soreness from his wrists. Rohan immediately pulled the oars in and held one in front of him, ready to use it as a weapon if he needed to fight the mer in front of him.

"Relax, you can put down the oar," Naril told him with the roll of his eyes.

"Nay, you need to turn around to I can bind your wrists again!" Rohan spat.

"Look, I'm not going to let you tie me again. I'm going to pick up that second oar and I'm going to help you row us across the gulf. I'm not willing to risk going into the Thalmor's base with you exhausted all because you were too stubborn to let me help."

Without another word, Naril reached down and grabbed the second oar, setting it into the water and beginning to paddle. When Rohan simply stared at him, he glared back at him with his deep red eyes and snapped, "Well, don't just sit there with your mouth open, you s'wit, start paddling or we'll never get there!"

Blinking, Rohan reluctantly did as Naril commanded and they rowed together in silence, both with the mission to rescue Kiraya keeping them going.

* * *

><p><em>Well, Rohan has gone rogue and has taken Naril with him to try and rescue Kiraya on their own. What can I say, love makes people blind, right?<em>

_Don't forget to **Fave/Follow/Review** and I'll see you all next time when I update with the next chapter!_

_Much love!_

_-Mirage_


	27. Chapter 27

_Hey everyone!_

_I got my groove back and was able to churn this chapter out in a few days. I'm going to warn you though, this chapter starts out very dark and contains physical violence toward minors. So if any of you are uncomfortable with stuff of that subject matter, feel free to skip the first part, up until the paragraph breaker._

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: **Down with the Sickness by System of a Down, Jailbreak by Thin Lizzy, Buffalo Bill by Eminem.**_

_Please remember, Reviews equal love!_

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Seven<strong>

**(14****th**** of Midyear, 205 4E)**

Kiraya's eyes flew open at the sound of a loud clanging at the door of her cell. Sitting up on her thin bedroll, she immediately regretted her quick movements and let out a low groan of pain. In the five days since her attempted escape from the Thalmor, her life had been made a living hell. Before returning her to the cell, the Thalmor soldiers had taken it upon themselves to teach her a lesson on what happens to prisoners who try to escape and then proceeded to beat her for several minutes, punching her and smacking her around before she collapsed on the floor. Where some torturers would have taken that as a sign that the prisoner had enough and stopped, the Thalmor soldiers then went on to give her a few swift kicks to the ribs before tossing her carelessly back into her cold cell.

After that they had stopped feeding her and would only bring her water to keep her alive. It was always the same soldier that came to deliver her water too, a soldier named Vindur who was also the one whose eye she had clawed during her escape. Her naturally sharp nails had done extensive damage, as she had intended, to the Altmer's eye and he now bore a deep jagged scar across his lid. His eye, which had been a beautiful deep amber that reminded Kiraya of fresh honey, was now clouded over with a white haze that indicated he could no longer see out of it. Vindur hadn't taken the loss of sight in his eye well and made sure to exact his vengeance on Kiraya every chance he got by savagely beating her every time he brought her the water ration for the day.

And it was now Vindur who was standing in front of her cell, loudly banging his glass sword against the bars and giving Kiraya the beginnings of a very painful headache.

"Rise and shine, half-breed!" he practically shouted at her. "Don't you want you breakfast?"

It was just then that Kiraya noticed the tray he was balancing in his other hand. "I thought I wasn't being fed," her voice croaked painfully when she spoke the words.

"If it were up to me, I'd let you starve another week to teach you a lesson, but lucky for you, Lady Elenwen wants you alive as leverage." Putting his sword back in it's scabbard, he grabbed the key ring from his belt and unlocked the cell door. "Keep in mind you're only getting one meal a day."

When the cell door swung open, Kiraya made no move to try and dash past him, her body in far too much pain to make the attempt. She was sure that she had a few cracked ribs, and the bruises that covered her face and the rest of her body were tender and painful to the touch. She had expected, and hoped, that Vindur would just set the tray down on the floor and then leave, but that clearly wasn't the case, since when she risked a glance up she saw him patiently standing just a step inside the cell, holding her tray and looking at her expectantly.

"What?" she hissed, tired and exhausted from all the beatings she had endured and in no mood to deal with her torturer.

"You should be on your knees in front of me, kissing my boots and thanking me for feeding you," he told her, his voice laced with amusement that made Kiraya very uneasy.

Kiraya didn't supply a response and merely glared at the ground. After a minute or two, she heard him take a few steps further into her cell and stand in front of her. She knew he was glaring down at her, she could practically feel his gaze, but she stared at his boots, refusing to look up. The room was silent for a few more moments before her finally delivered a swift kick to her shin.

"Ow!" she yelped painfully, her hands moving to rub the area.

"I don't think you heard me, half-breed!" he shouted at her, delivering another kick to the same spot and hitting her fingers this time. "Get on your knees, kiss my boots and thank me for feeding you!"

Kiraya felt tears beginning to pool in her eyes and looked up to glare at Vindur. "I'd rather starve than give you the satisfaction!"

"I'm sorry, I'm hearing words come out of your mouth, but I won't be able to understand them unless the exact words are, 'Thank you, Master Vindur, for feeding a disgusting half-breed like myself.'"

"If you're waiting to hear me say that, you'll be waiting a long time, you pathetic bastard."

The moment the words left her mouth, Kiraya knew she would regret them. Vindur dropped the tray to the side, the little food that had been on it splattering on the dirty floor, and reached down to grab a fist full of her hair and pull her up. Shrieking in pain, Kiraya was forced onto her knees and then thrown down so it looked like she was bowing before him. Refusing to stay in that position, she straightened herself up, remaining on her knees and glared up with him with so much hate in her eyes that she fancied that if looks could kill, Vindur would be a pile of bones before her. But all her hateful look gave her was a painful backhand across her face.

"Don't you dare look at me, half-breed!" Vindur growled, spitting on her face.

Kiraya reached up to wipe the spit off her cheek, but glared straight ahead, looking at the key ring on his belt. "What can I say, I like looking at my handiwork. How are you adjusting to only seeing out one eye, Vindur?"

She received another slap for that remark and could taste the blood on her lip. "And don't you dare address me as if we were equals! I am your superior in every way! Your people live as slaves and servants to those of my race!"

Kiraya licked the blood off her lip and looked up to glare at him again, not fearing being struck again. "You're right, we aren't equals. The fact that you're beating a child like me shows how weak and pathetic you really are."

Right after she said that, Kiraya grabbed the back of Vindur's leg and dug her claws in, piercing the skin deeply before raking them through his flash and severing his tendon. The Altmer shouted in pain and fell to one knee, giving her the opportunity to grab the key ring from his belt and make a dash for the still open cell door. But her movement was stiff and restricted due to the pain she was in and she wasn't quick enough to escape Vindur's reach. He had grabbed hold of her tail and yanked her back hard, causing her to scream in pain and fall on the ground. Before she even knew what was happening, Vindur had rolled her onto her stomach and was sitting on her back, blood still gushing out of his wound.

"That's it, I think it's time you pay a blood price for all the injuries you've inflicted on me, half-breed!" the mer muttered as he pulled out his blade and held her tail firmly in his grasp.

Kiraya heard the sound of steel slicing through flesh just as a blinding pain shot throughout her entire body. The bloodcurdling scream that left her could be heard clearly by even the Thalmor soldiers standing guard outside and they would smile cruelly at the sound, not even caring about the poor girl who had blacked out from the pain in the prison cell below the ground.

**oOo**

"Did you hear that?" Rohan asked Naril as they hid the rowboat behind some large rock formations. "It sounded like someone screaming."

Naril cast a worried glance up the beach and Rohan could see the Dunmer gulp nervously. "It was probably just your imagination."

His hazel eyes hardened and he scowled. "You barely believe your own words! Do you think that was Kiraya?"

"Even if it was, it would do us no good to think it," the young mer said softly as he grabbed Rohan's pack out of the boat and slung it over his shoulders. "We have to keep a level head and not let our emotions get in the way if we're going to be rescuing Kiraya from training soldiers and mages who won't think twice about killing us."

"I don't care if they were dragons serving under Alduin himself, they aren't going to stop me from getting Kiraya out of there?" Glaring at his back in Naril's possession, he finally asked, "Why in Oblivion are you carrying my things?"

Naril looked at him and, quick as a flash, grabbed Rohan's sword from his belt. "Because the Thalmor are going to think they're my things and they won't be none the wiser of what's happened when I turn you in."

Blood rushed to Rohan's face as he gave Naril a look of pure fury. He had helped the bastard who handed Kiraya over to Elenwen on a silver platter escape from Einarr and his family and now he was being stabbed in the back. But in the back of his mind he was already mentally chastising himself for having trusted a Thalmor agent to begin with. He should have foreseen that something like this would happen and now he was going to be paying the ultimate price.

"Well, don't just stand there with your face as red as your hair," Naril sighed, taking the bow and quiver from Rohan's back, before tapping him on the arm lightly with the sword. "Start walking ahead of me. We're traveling up the beach and the Thalmor house is just ahead of us."

"I fucking freed you and this is the thanks I get?" Rohan spat, but started walking as he was ordered.

"Well, that's one of the tough lessons in life, kid. You can never trust anyone and you always have to look out for yourself. Handing you over to the Thalmor should start to repair some of the damage that's been done, and once I tell them the positions been compromised and the prisoners moved, it'll be like I never told the Dragonborn anything."

"I hope you rot in Coldharbour for everything you've done!"

Naril smirked at him and poked his lower back with the end of the blade. "Luckily my people live a while, so I won't be rotting for a good, long time, my friend."

They walked up the beach for a few minutes before the Thalmor house came into view and the sunlight flashed off the armor of one soldier standing watch a few yards from the house. They had been spotted almost immediately by the Altmer in elven armor and he approached them with a short sword in one hand and a ball of formed flame in the other.

"Who goes there?" the soldier shouted.

"Relax, it's me, Naril," the Dunmer called out from behind Rohan.

The soldier seemed to recognize Naril, since he lowered his sword and extinguished the flame in his hand. "Naril, what in Oblivion are you doing here? Lady Elenwen specifically commanded you to stay in Solitude or Dragon's Bridge until further notice."

"My position had become compromised and I was forced to escape," Naril explained, pushing Rohan forward. "I brought a hostage with me to ensure my safety, but we don't have long."

"What's happened? What's going on?"

"The Dragonborn knows where his daughter is being held prisoner and is only a days journey behind me. We don't have long to move to another safehouse."

Stowing his blade back in its scabbard, the Thalmor soldier glared at Naril. "Gods damn it, what in Oblivion did you do to screw everything up?"

"He blabbed everything to the Dragonborn," Rohan said with a smug smirk. "Naril here isn't very good at laying low or tying up loose end. We had him chained up in a cellar last night and he sang like a little songbird once we were done with him."

Rohan cried out in pain when he felt Naril strike his arm with the side of the sword he still carried, leaving a cut behind. "Shut the fuck up, you stupid child!"

"The Dragonborn had you prisoner?" the soldier demanded. "How did you manage to escape from him?"

"I drugged the mead bottles the idiots were stupid enough to leave near my cell," Naril explained in a rush. "Look, we can talk about what happened after we get this kid into a cell and pack up anything we need to take to the safehouse. The stuff I gave them would have worn off by this morning and they'll be on their way here before noon. If they're smart, they'll just come across the water like I did."

The Thalmor cursed loudly, but agreed as he led Rohan and Naril up to the house and unlocked the door to let them in.

"You keep the door locked now?" Naril asked curiously.

"The half-breed managed the break out of her cell five days ago, so we're keeping the door locked in case she manages to get out again."

Rohan actually stayed quiet as he was forcefully pushed and led through the manor, taking in every last detail he could so he could start plotting their escape. He was led all the way to the back of the manor where another Thalmor soldier with a healing claw mark over his blinded eye was just climbing out from a hatch built into the ground.

"Vindur, what was all that ruckus earlier?" the soldier escorting them demanded. "I could hear it clear from my post outside!"

"The half-breed tried making a break for it again, Fenlil," Vindur explained. "Little rat managed to injure me with my own blade."

Rohan glanced down and noticed the blood seeping down Vindur's boot and felt a bit of satisfaction that Kiraya had been able to hurt him, but was terrified over what had happened to cause her to scream loud enough that he was able to hear it faintly from down the beach.

"You better have Oinara have a look at that," Fenlil murmured, shooting Vindur a sympathetic look. "What did you do to teach the half-breed rat a lesson?"

Vindur smiled cruelly and lifted his hand up. "The little bitch took something from me, so I took something from her."

Rohan turned his gaze to what it was Vindur held and felt his blood run cold, right before a wave a nausea hit him hard enough that he couldn't hold back the bile that filled his mouth and ended up on the floor. Both Altmer let out sounds of disgust at the sight and smell of Rohan vomiting and he quickly wiped his mouth to continue staring at Kiraya's mutilated tail in Vindur's grasp.

"You sick bastard," Rohan whispered in horror. "How could you do that to her?!"

Vindur glared at Rohan before he turned to his fellow soldier. "Who in Oblivion is this kid?"

"He's my hostage," Naril explained, staring at Kiraya's tail in shock and looking several shades paler.

"Naril here blew his cover and the Dragonborn knows where we are," Fenlil added angrily. "We need to throw this kid in a cell and get to work on gathering everything we need before moving to the safehouse. If what Naril says is true, the Dragonborn may very well be here by nightfall, so we don't have a lot of time."

Vindur nodded and looked at Naril. "You take him down there and lock him up. Then you'll sit there and watch then while we get everything we need together. Understand?"

Naril nodded stiffly and lowered his eyes to the ground. "Yes, sir."

Vindur handed Naril the keyring he had attached to his belt and held open the hatch for them. Naril went down the ladder first and then Rohan was practically shoved down right after. The soldiers made no move to follow them down, but they kept a close eye on things as Naril roughly grabbed Rohan by the arm and started pulling him over to an empty cell.

"Go ahead and throw him in the cell with the half-breed," Vindur ordered before Naril had a chance to open the empty cell. "He can try and fix her up a bit. We can't have her dying on us after all or Elenwen would tan our hides."

Naril nodded stiffly and pulled Rohan over to the only occupied cell in the basement of the manor. Heart hammering in his chest, Rohan stared at Kiraya's limp form in the center of her cell floor and practically ran to her side to kneel beside her, relieved beyond measure to see the faint rise and fall of her chest.

"Gods, Kiraya, what did they do to you?" he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

Shaking his head and swallowing the lump in his throat, he looked her over and knew what he saw wasn't good. The back of her trousers were soaked through in blood from her open wound and the blood was now beginning to form a puddle underneath her. He gently pushed the hair away from her face and sucked in a breath when he saw all the bruises and facial swelling covering it. Gritting his teeth, Rohan tore his gaze away and glared at Naril, who was standing at the now closed door of the cell.

"I packed bandages in my pack," he told him. "I need them to soak up the blood from the wound before she bleeds out."

Naril glanced up at the hatch, now closed, before he turned back to look at Rohan and surprised him by opening the cell door and stepping inside. "Bandages won't be necessary."

"What are you doing?" he demanded, confused as the Dunmer walked over and knelt beside them.

"I'm going to heal her," he explained, his palms glowing with the warm, familiar light of a healing spell.

He held his hand over where her tail used to be and a small current of magic flowed out to the wound. Rohan moved aside just enough of Kiraya's clothing to be able to see if Naril's magic was working. He let out a sigh of relief when he saw the wound close over, but knew that even with the healing, Kiraya would likely feel the pain of not having her tail for the rest of her life.

"Can you heal her other injuries as well?" Rohan asked him, hastily wiping a tear away.

Naril already looked exhausted from healing the amputated wound, but his eyes were lit up in determination. "I can try."

For several long moments, Naril focused solely on healing Kiraya and by the time he had exhausted all his magicka, she looked a lot better than before. The swelling on her face had gone down drastically and the bruises that covered her seemed to have healed a little bit. Naril sat back exhausted and covered in sweat, but relieved at Kiraya's appearance.

"She still has some cracked ribs and her body will still ache and be in some pain, but she'll be well enough to run when we make our escape," Naril explained, grabbing a water canteen from Rohan's pack and chugging down half of it in a few gulps.

Rohan studied the Dunmer carefully and finally asked, "So it was just a ruse then? You only pretended to betray me so we could get in here?"

"I wasn't sure how good of an actor you were in a dangerous situation," he explained. "Thalmor soldiers are ruthless and if they even think somethings off, they would have had us both in a cell. At least this way, they still think I'm on their side."

"So we'll go once Kiraya's woken up?"

"If they haven't locked the hatch above us, yes. But if it's locked, we're going to have to think of a new method of escape."

Rohan nodded and felt Kiraya's head shift on his lap. Looking down, she saw her face scrunch up as it normally did whenever she was just waking up and smiled softly at her. When her bleary, pale-blue eyes finally fluttered open, he gently pushed her hair out of her face and soothingly stroked her head.

"Hey, Kiraya," he murmured softly.

Her eyes showed confusion when she finally focused on him and teared up slightly. "Rohan? Is that really you?"

"Yeah, it's really me. I came to rescue you."

She choked on a sob and struggled to sit up. Rohan helped her and before her knew it, her arms were wrapped around him and she was crying into his shoulder, her whole boy shaking with each sob that ripped through her.

"I was so scared," she said, her voice muffled. "I thought no one would find me and that I'd die here!"

Rohan flinched, and on instinct, held her a bit tighter than he should have, aggravating Kiraya's cracked ribs and causing her to let out a small yelp of pain. He quickly loosened his hold on her and gently pushed away from her, giving her a look of concern.

"Sorry, I forgot you were injured," he apologized.

Kiraya shook her head and shot him a small smile. "Nay, it's fine. I actually hurt a lot less than I did before I blacked out."

"You're welcome," Naril spoke suddenly, causing Kiraya to go stiff and turn her head to stare at him with a mixture of sadness and rage.

"Rohan, why is he here?" Kiraya demanded, her voice quavering with each word.

Rohan reached for her hand and held it firmly in his, trying to calm her in whatever way he could. "I brought him with me to help rescue you."

"Did he happen to mention that he's the whole reason I'm here to begin with? He served me up to Elenwen on a silver platter!"

"I already regret doing that enough as it is, Kiraya!" Naril argued back at her. "I'm trying to make-up for my mistake by getting you out of here and taking you back to your father."

"Like the Void you are! You're probably going to betray us at the first sign of trouble just so you can save your own skin!"

"I swear I'm not! I want to fix this, believe me."

"Kiraya, just give him a chance," Rohan intervened, speaking in Naril's defense. "He could have already betrayed us by just locking me up and doing nothing to help with your injuries."

Kiraya turned to him, giving him a look of disbelief and shock. "How can you be so quick to trust the very same person who got me locked in here?"

"Because like so many others, I think he's just a victim of the Thalmor, intimidated into cooperating with them to spare themselves from a worse fate."

"But, Rohan–"

"Finverior worked for the Thalmor once, do you not trust him?"

Kiraya's lips tightened to a thin line and she glared at him. "Finverior's different. He had no choice but to join the Thalmor to keep his family safe."

"And maybe Naril is just the same," Rohan sighed, looking at the dejected looking Dunmer and feeling a bit of pity for him. "But we'll never know until we give him a chance to prove himself. And he can start by giving me back my weapons."

Naril's eyes widened and he gritted his teeth as he very reluctantly handed over the sword and the bow. "And just what am I supposed to defend myself with?"

"You're a mage, just shoot fireballs at anyone who tries to attack you," Rohan answered simply, handing Kiraya the bow he had brought along for her. "I know it's not your Dragonbone bow, but your father refuses to part with it."

"It's more than I had in my last escape attempt," Kiraya muttered, slinging the quiver onto her back with a grunt of pain.

"Are you going to be able to shoot?" Naril asked skeptically.

"Even as beat up as I am, I'm probably a better shot than you are, Naril."

"Ah, that's right, you've seen me shoot a bow when we went hunting. Should have remembered."

Kiraya's ears twitched irritably when Naril mentioned the hunting trip and Rohan didn't miss the way her eyes teared up. There was a clear look of pain in her expression, but it was emotional pain and not physical. He could tell that she had really cherished her friendship with Naril, even if it had been one big charade to gain her trust and deliver her to the Thalmor's hands. The Dunmer could clearly tell that mentioning any part of their previous friendship had upset her, so he muttered a quick apology and got up off the floor, leaving the cell.

Rohan had brought Kiraya a change of clothes to change into from the pack that Naril had taken from her when he handed her over to Elenwen and turned his back to her so she could change. The clothes she had been wearing when they arrived had been dirtied and stained with blood, so he could already see the relief in her eyes when she changed into something clean. But even in clean clothing and holding a bow in her hands, Rohan could still see a look of discomfort in Kiraya's eyes when he finally was able to turn around and look at her.

"What's wrong?" he asked her softly.

Her lightly furred hand went behind her back and rubbed the area where her tail would have been. "I'm not used to it . . . I feel I'm not whole and keep expecting it to be there when I look over my shoulder."

Rohan frowned and reached over to squeeze her shoulder. "We'll make them pay for what they did to you, Kiraya," he promised her. "And if we don't, your father will. Einarr would never let them get away with what they put you through."

Kiraya nodded grimly and took a deep breath, straightening up and giving him a look of determination. "Let's just focus on getting out of here first."

"We'll need to start running the moment we open that hatch," Naril said, moving over to the ladder. "The house will be active with the soldiers and mages packing and destroying any evidence, so we need to run straight for the exit."

"And once we're outside?" Rohan asked. "Where do we go from there?"

"The best shot we have is if we head through the trees toward that mountain behind us. We're all smaller and faster than those Thalmor soldiers, so we can try and lose them there and use the rocks for cover if it turns into a fight."

"And after we lose them?" Kiraya wondered, still looking at Naril with distrustful eyes.

"After we lose them, I'll take you both to the Stormcloak camp nearby that the Thalmor found out about recently and turn myself in. You'll be safe with them and I'll face whatever punishment decided for me."

"Which will more than likely be your head," Kiraya spat venomously.

Rohan saw Naril flinch at her harsh tone, but didn't say anything, knowing that nothing he could say could sooth the tension. And if he was being perfectly honest, Naril deserved the sharp side of Kiraya's tongue, especially after everything she'd been put through thanks to him. Gripping his short sword's handle in a firm hold, Rohan stepped between Naril and Kiraya and nodded to the both of them.

"Okay, so we have a plan now, so let's stop wasting time and get going," he urged.

Naril nodded and began to climb the ladder, pushing the hatch up an inch to test if it was still open. When they all saw it was, they breathed a sigh of relief and quickly made their way up the ladder. Once they were all on the ground floor, they crouched near the hatch and looked at each other, each one of them looking frightened, but brave.

"Nine watch over us," Rohan muttered before they moved forward together.

None of them knowing that before days end, one of them would be dead.

* * *

><p><em>Who do you think it's going to be?<em>

_Don't forget to **Fave/Follow/Review** and I'll see you all next time when I update with the next chapter!_

_Much love!_

_-Mirage_


	28. Chapter 28

_I'm back!_

_Sorry it took so long for me to get this chapter out, but a lot of stuff was happening in my life that delayed me releasing this. Some of you may know that I started a Fallout Fanfic that I've been putting some time into, but fear not, I have not abandoned this series! To catch you all up on what's been happening I'll tell you now:_

_1) I got my wisdom teeth taken out, so no more migraines!_

_2) I moved back to Missouri to live with my boyfriend._

_3) I started classes over at the local college and am now back on track to getting my Culinary Arts degree_

_4) Said boyfriend proposed to me! That's right followers, Mirage is getting married!_

_We're having a small justice of the peace ceremony on Tuesday and once my classes are over, we'll be heading down to Miami to have a small reception with my family and friends! Chapters might not be coming out as often as they had in the past because I'll have a pretty packed schedule with school, but I promise to keep writing no matter what. You readers are all very important to me and I would never end this series half-way through._

_Okay, so just so you know, this chapter is going to be very sad as there will be character death._

_Musical Inspiration for this Chapter: _**Sleep by Poets of the Fall****, Stitches by Shawn Mendes, See You Again by Wiz Khalifa and Charlie Puth**

* * *

><p><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Eight<strong>

**(14****th**** of Midyear. 205 4E)**

"Keep running!" Naril shouted as he ran alongside Kiraya and Rohan. "Don't look back!"

Kiraya gripped the bow Rohan had brought for her tightly in her hand as she rapidly set one foot in front of the other as quickly as she could, ignoring the pain that radiated throughout her body with each and every step. The Thalmor had been hot on their tail since they made a mad dash from the prison cellar they had kept her in and were still managing to keep up with them as they weaved through the trees that grew just a few yards from the manor.

"They're gaining on us!" Rohan gasped, risking a glance over his shoulder. Kiraya saw his eyes widen immediately and she was already swerving behind some trees as he yelled, "Get behind something!"

Kiraya shut her eyes and felt Rohan's body shield her just as a fireball struck the ground not even two feet from where they stood. She opened her eyes to stare at the scorched bit of earth, but was already getting dragged along by Naril.

"Don't stop moving!" the Dunmer ordered them, looking as panicked and scared as Kiraya felt herself.

She barely stifled a shriek as another fireball flashed past them and forced her body to move faster. While Naril had done his best to heal the worst of her injuries, the pain and soreness still remained in her muscles and it was a struggle to keep up with her two companions, who were in far better condition than her.

"How many are after us?" Kiraya asked Rohan as they continued to run toward the mountain range.

"I saw three when I looked back!"

"There's likely more behind them," Naril said as he took point and another fireball whizzed by. "Just don't stop moving! They won't hesitate to kill us!"

Kiraya sucked in a pained breath and forced herself to ignore the cramp that was starting to develop in her side. If she lagged behind then Rohan and Naril would slow themselves down to keep pace with her and the Thalmor would catch up for sure. If that happened, she already knew a painful death would await each of them.

_Come on, Kiraya, you can run faster! _She growled to herself, summoning the energy for a short burst of speed.

She was knocked off balance and sent sprawling to the cold, hard ground when one of the Thalmor's fireballs hit the ground right behind her. A wave of panic shot through her when she heard Rohan shout her name and a shadow fell over her from behind, far too large to be either of her male companions. Rolling onto her back, she tried to back crawl away from the advancing soldier but he was quickly catching up, his sword raised over his head to strike at her.

"Hey!" Naril's voice shouted.

The soldier looked up and was met with a bolt of lightning that caused him to scream in pain and fall to the ground convulsing. Kiraya was quickly hauled to her feet by Rohan and they ran to Naril who still had sparks lighting up his palms as he threw that at the oncoming soldiers.

"Keep running," he urged them. "I'll keep firing at them."

"We need to find some cover, quick!" Rohan shouted, his grip around Kiraya's wrist tight as he led her toward the mountains.

They ran for a while, avoiding fireballs and arrows alike as they were chased, and Kiraya all the while knew that they wouldn't be able to keep running for long, not when she was in such rough shape. Even with a second wind, she was still having trouble keeping up with Rohan and knew that she was slowing him down because he refused to let go of her wrist.

"We can't keep this pace much longer," Kiraya panted to her companions.

"Seems like the Thalmor can't either," Naril said, who was clearly short on breath.

Kiraya risked a glance over her shoulder and saw that the Thalmor, weighed down by their armor, were a lot farther behind than she had thought they were. She could still see them, but their fireballs weren't flying far enough to cause much concern while they continued running and the ones that had been shooting arrows were a lot farther behind than the mages.

"We can't completely slow down, but we''re far enough ahead that we can set up an ambush, or even a trap or two," Kiraya told them, slowing down to a jog and trying to catch her breath.

"And how are we going to set traps?" Naril asked, glaring at her. "We don't have any supplies we'd need for that kind of stuff."

She let out a huff of air and looked around as they kept moving. While she hadn't visited the region of Hjaalmarch much before, she knew that the entire region was very wet and swamp-like but the forest the were traversing through now, there were many fallen trees and scorched earth that was torn up by what might have been claws. Odahviing and that other dragon could have possibly been here before and as a result of their dragonfires, the fallen trees and scorched earth were very dry.

"Wait," Kiraya gasped, having a sudden realization and slowing to a halt and looking around more.

"Are you insane?" Rohan snapped at her, trying to put her along. "We can't stop running!"

Shaking her head, she yanked her arm out of his grip. "Nay, wait, I have an idea. Something to get some more distance between us and the Thalmor."

Both Rohan and Naril looked at her before the Dunmer asked, "What's the idea?"

She pointed at all the dried out trees and the scorched earth around them. "We need to start a fire. There were dragons here a few nights ago fighting, they may have scorched the earth enough for us to be able to start a large fire. Naril you can use your magic and Rohan and I can use flints."

The boys both looked at each other for a moment, as if trying to telepathically debate with one another whether Kiraya's idea of a plan would work well enough for them to actually escape the Thalmor.

"We don't have a lot of time to stand around and make a decision!" Kiraya snapped, rushing them.

"Well, it isn't the worst idea," Rohan conceded with a shrug.

Sighing heavily, Naril agreed and lifted his hand, a ball of fire manifesting in his palm out of thin air. "Let's burn a forest down."

**oOo**

The water reached Einarr's knees when he jumped out of the small ship that had carried him and his companions across the waters into Hjaalmarch, grabbing one of the ropes to help Vilkas, Farkas, and Finverior pull the vessel onto the stony shore. It had taken them most of the morning to get the boat across the gulf, but they knew they were on the right track when Lassarina spotted the fishing boat that had been reported stolen from the Solitude docks hidden behind some large boulders. Once their ship was safely pulled onto shore, Einarr ran over to the rowboat and leaned over it, taking a deep breath and catching Rohan and Naril's scents on the wood.

"This was definitely their boat," Einarr announced to Farkas, who ran over looking just as worried and nervous as he did. "They must have left it here and continued on foot."

"Can you track their scent?" Farkas asked quietly, so that Assa couldn't overhear.

"Even if he couldn't, he wouldn't need to," Lassarina announced, pointing at the sand further inland. "The tide washed away any footprints near the boat, but I can see some more further away from the water."

Einarr moved away from the boat and walked further away from the water until he reached two sets of footprints in the sand, heading away from the beach and up the coast. He led the group along the trail that Rohan and Naril left behind and before long, they came across a large manor that's door was left wide open.

"It looks just like where they were keeping Faolan," Lassarina told Einarr, coming to stand beside him with her bow drawn.

"There could be Thalmor agents nearby, so everyone be on your guard," Einarr ordered, drawing his greatsword and approaching the manor cautiously.

As he neared the open door, Kiraya's scent reached Einarr and his heart began hammering in his chest. The scent was fairly fresh, no more than a couple of hours old and it urged him to rush into manor. At first glance, it seemed like the manor was recently ransacked, with furniture knocked over and papers abandoned on the floorboards, but thanks to his beast-blood, he could smell that there was at least one person further inside and he could hear whoever it was rummaging around. His body tense and ready for confrontation, Einarr advanced further into the manor and could a cloaked being, tossing supplies into a pack they held.

"Drop any weapons you have and turn around slowly," Einarr growled.

The cloaked person let out a startled cry and whirled around to face him, dropping the pack on the floor. Einarr was shocked to be face-to-face with a Khajiit woman with sand-brown fur that was dotted with black spots, but made no move to lower his weapon.

"Please. Do not hurt, Zanita!" the Khajiit woman begged, falling to her knees and holding her hands up in defeat. "Zanita means no harm, she only wishes to escape!"

Einarr lowered his blade at the sound of the woman's panic-filled voice and glanced back at the rest of his group, they didn't seem to deem her a threat anymore than he did and moved away to look around for anyone else that could still be in the manor.

Finverior walked past the Khajiit, into a room near the back of the manor and shouted from within, "Got a dead Thalmor soldier in here!"

"Did you kill the soldier he's talking about?" Einarr asked the Khajiit woman in her native tongue.

Zanita seemed surprised to hear a Nord speaking fluent Ta'agra'iss, but answered in a quavering voice, "Zanita had no choice. Thalmor would not have let Zanita leave otherwise because she knew too much."

"There's a trap door back here as well!" Finverior's voice cut in. The sound of something slamming onto the floor reached Einarr's ears. "There's a couple of empty cells down in the basement."

"The prisoners, they escaped," Zanita explained. "Thalmor soldiers left to catch them hours ago, left only one behind to watch Zanita."

"Was one of the prisoners a young girl?" Einarr asked her. "She would have been half-Khajiit."

Zanita trembled and her eyes widened as she nodded. "_Ja'iiliten. _Ran right past Zanita with Dunmer and a boy with a mane of flames. Ran into forest with Thalmor chasing their tails. Perfect chance for Zanita to escape as well."

"Einarr, the rest of the manor is empty," Assa announced from the second floor. "She must be telling the truth."

"This Khajiit says that the kids escaped," he shouted back, so everyone else could hear him.

"Please, let Zanita go free," the Khajiit woman begged Einarr. "This one cannot be slave to the Thalmor no longer!"

Feeling pity for the woman pleading at his feet, Einarr went down on one knee and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Zanita, you are free now, neither I nor my people will hurt you. Go wherever it is you call home, and if you ever need anything, write to the Companions in Whiterun and they will help you."

Tears of relief formed in her eyes and she didn't hesitate to bow her head to him before gathering her supplies and scurrying out of the manor. Einarr stood from the floor and raked his hand through his hair, letting out an anxious sigh and looking around the now empty building. Kiraya, Rohan and Naril had all escaped together but were being chased down by the Thalmor. With any luck an obvious trail would have been left behind and they can catch up to them all quickly.

"Everyone, we need to go!" he shouted to everyone in the manor as he made his way outside. "We're close to finding them, we just need to keep following their trail while it's still fresh!"

Lassarina was already standing outside with Kiraya, looking toward the forest, their faces a few shades paler and their expressions grim. "Tracking them might not be a problem, brother," his sister said softly.

Following her gaze, Einarr felt the blood drain from his face at the sight of a large cloud of smoke coming up from the trees. The smell was already starting to reach them and it was clear that the flames were only a couple of miles away. He was already muttering a prayer to both Aedra and Daedra alike as he broke out into a run toward the trees that his daughter and Rohan didn't die in a forest fire.

**oOo**

Kiraya coughed uncontrollably as the acrid smoke filled her lungs and made it hard to navigate through the smoldering brush around her. Her plan had worked a bit too well and the fire she, Naril and Rohan had started quickly spread and grew out of control. After they set a few fires, they had started walking again toward the mountains, but the flames had spread quicker than they anticipated and they were soon surrounded by smoke that was filling their lungs and causing Kiraya and Rohan to slow down exponentially. Only Naril was the least affected by the smoke, mainly due to his racial resistance to fire that was famous among all Dunmer kind.

"Come on, you two, try and keep up," Naril pleaded with them, urging them along with the occasional pull and push. "We need to get away from the fire."

Kiraya blinked away the stinging tears that the smoke was causing and pressed herself forward, her hand tight around Naril's wrist. She kept glancing over at Rohan every few moments and saw that he was doing a lot better than she was, but she figured that she was mainly struggling due to the wounds and bruising that still covered her body.

"I didn't think the fire would spread this fast," Rohan said, his voice wheezing.

"This entire forest is drier than a bone," Naril spat, leading them around a burning thicket of bushes. "The flames are completely out of anyone's control now and if we don't get ahead of them soon, we're going to be trapped in here with a handful of Thalmor."

Kiraya stifled a cough and looked over her shoulder at the mention of the Thalmor. She couldn't see them because of the flames, but she could hear them shouting at each other. Their voices were close and it sent a wave of panic through her.

"They're getting closer!" she announced, forcing herself into a lagging sprint.

Naril turned around and swore under his breath, looking around their surrounding area with a desperate look in his eye. "We need to find somewhere to hide and let them get past us."

"Too late," Rohan coughed, raising his sword.

Kiraya looked in the direction Rohan was facing and spotted a single Thalmor soldier advancing on then, his elven blade in one hand and electricity sparking off the other. She nocked an arrow with her trembling hands and raised her bow, aiming for the approaching Altmer. When she loosed the arrow, she was aiming for his head and he turned away from them as the arrow struck, cursing loudly. But he didn't fall to the ground dead like she had anticipated, in fact, when the soldier turned back to glare at her, she saw that the arrow had only caused a superficial cut across his cheek.

"Shit," she squeaked, backing away.

The soldier was intercepted by Rohan, who met him with his own short sword. "Kiraya, get out of here!"

"Nay, I won't leave you!" she told him, drawing another arrow and pulling back the string.

Naril came up on the Altmer's flank, both his hands engulfed by fire that he had aimed at the soldier, who was now looking a bit apprehensive at facing the three of them, despite the fact that they were essentially kids with no battle experience to fall back on.

"He can't take on all three of us alone," Naril said in a cocky tone.

The soldier looked over at Kiraya and she saw the nervousness leave his eyes, replaced with a reassurance she couldn't understand. "Guess I'm not as alone as you thought."

Kiraya heard a twig snap behind her right before a pair of arms grabbed her from behind, forcing her to drop her bow and let out a piercing scream of terror.

"Kiraya!" Rohan shouted, turning to run toward her.

"Rohan, don't!" Naril warned him.

But the warning came too late. The Thalmor soldier that Rohan had been facing had already raised his sword and swung it down. Rohan's scream of pain caused Kiraya's heart to stop and she watched in open-mouthed horror as her best friend fell to the scorching ground, clutching his side with both hands, blood seeping out between his fingers.

"Rohan!" she shrieked, struggling like a mad woman to get out of the restricting hold keeping her in place.

She stopped struggling when the sharp edge of a dagger touched her throat and an all too familiar voice spoke directly in her ear. "Keep struggling and I'll slice that pretty throat of yours."

Kiraya stood stock still, fear gripping her heart at the knowledge that she was being held at knife-point by Vindur. She knew that her jailer wouldn't hesitate to hurt or even kill her if the need arose, so she just stared at Rohan in dismay, her lip quivering and tears freely falling down her cheeks. She heard Naril curse and glanced in his direction to see him on the ground, struggling to fend off a mage that had just arrived.

"We've got the half-breed back," Vindur announced. "Kill those two and let's get moving to the embassy." She felt his lips press against her ear, causing a wave of disgust to go through her, and he whispered with sadistic glee, "And you get to watch the life leave your friends eyes."

"Nay, please, don't kill them!" Kiraya sobbed, watching the soldier that had injured Rohan advancing on her friend.

Rohan tried in vain to get up, his hand already reaching for his sword, but the Altmer kicked the blade away and dropped to one knee. He grabbed Rohan by his hair and forced him to reel back his head and expose his neck. Despite being at Vindur's mercy, she couldn't help but struggle when as she watched the edge of a sword move to Rohan's neck. She felt the dagger nick her skin and blood start to weep from the wound, but she couldn't comprehend the pain when her best friend in Mundus was seconds away from death.

She heard the mage Naril was fighting let out a choked scream that was quickly cut off by a wet gurgle and looked over to see the robed Altmer lying dead on the ground. Naril had just yanked the dagger out of his chest and sprinted toward the vulnerable Rohan, knocking down the soldier that was about to kill him by barreling into his side. Without hesitation, the Dunmer brought up the dagger he had taken off the mage and slammed the pointed end directly into the Thalmor's face. The Altmer spasmed beneath Naril for a few seconds before he went completely still.

Panting heavily, Naril yanked the dagger out of the soldier's skull and walked over to Rohan, helping him to his feet so that both of them could glare at Vindur, who still held Kiraya in a firm grasp. "Let her go."

When her friends took a step forward, Vindur pressed the blade to Kiraya's throat and she hissed in pain, feeling it cut into her even more. "Come any closer and she dies!"

Rohan immediately stopped, but Naril took another step forward. "You're not going to kill her. She's too valuable to Elenwen for you to do that."

"Elenwen can go fuck a horker for all I care! I'm not above killing this little abomination!"

"She'll kill you herself if you slice Kiraya's throat."

"I'll just say that one of them did it!" Vindur scoffed, nodding to the dead bodies of his comrades. "She can't blame me when she wasn't here to witness it herself!"

"You're going to let her go," Naril said.

"And how do you know that?"

"_Strun . . . Bah Qo!_"

Two voices echoed around the forest and Kiraya looked up at the sky, seeing two separate waves of energy hitting the sky. Within seconds, clouds began to form and rain started to fall on them and the forest fire they started. Relief filled her entire being and she felt herself genuinely smile for the first time in weeks.

"What in Oblivion was that?" Vindur demanded, though the quaver in his voice indicated he had a pretty good idea.

Naril smirked and chuckled. "That's her father and aunt coming to kill you."

Not wanting to be the victim any longer, Kiraya flexed her fingers and brought her hand up, her sharp nails raking across Vindur's arm and forcing him to drop the dagger. While he screamed in pain, Kiraya elbowed his stomach and pulled away from him, sprinting toward Naril and Rohan.

"Run!" Naril shouted, pulling one of Rohan's arms across his shoulders and helping him alond as they started moving toward the direction of the Shout.

Kiraya helped Naril support Rohan's weight as they traversed through the now dying forest fire, all the while calling out to her father.

"Get back here!" Vindur's voice shouted from behind them.

"Don't stop!" Naril ordered, picking up the pace a bit, Rohan trying to keep up with them despite how weak his injury had left him.

"Kiraya!" her father's voice echoed around them.

Kiraya could barely contain her sob of relief. "Papa! We're over here!"

As they reached the top of a small slope, Kiraya's ears twitched slightly when she heard the familiar sound of an arrow being shot. She was about to warn Naril, when the Dunmer screamed in pain and all of Rohan's weight fell on her. Both she and Rohan rolled down the tumbled down the slope, each bump along the way sending a fresh wave of pain through Kiraya's already battered body. When she stopped rolling, she forced herself to sit up and looked up to the top of the slope to see Naril standing hunched over with an arrow deeply embedded into his shoulder. Her eyes widened in fear when she saw Vindur coming up behind the Dunmer, wielding a dagger.

"Naril, behind you!" she warned.

Naril turned around just in time for Vindur to stab him in the gut with the knife. Kiraya could hear his pained gasp and she could also hear someone else screaming. It took her a moment to realize the person screaming was her.

"This is what betraying the Thalmor gets you, Naril," Vindur chuckled, dragging the still embedded knife across his stomach.

Naril pushed himself off Vindur, falling backwards and sliding down the slope, blood smearing the grass. When he reached the bottom, Kiraya crawled over to him, her hands shaking as she reached out and supported his body into a recline with her own. Blood was pouring out of his wound at an alarming rate and his skin was growing paler with each passing second, his red eyes were already growing dull.

"Naril, come on, don't do this to me!" she sobbed. "You can't die! Not until you've won my forgiveness! You need to make up for betraying me!"

He turned his head slightly to look at her, the corner of his lip upturned slightly and blood running down to his chin. "Forgive me?"

Tears ran down her face and she shook her head stubbornly. "Nay! Cause then you'll just die!"

"Kiraya" –he forced himself to sit but couldn't manage it so she had to help him– "Kiraya, please?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and hugged him close to her. She heard footsteps and looked up to see Vindur standing over them, murder in his eyes.

"You're going to die now, little half-breed."

But before he could do anything, three arrows consecutively struck him in the chest. He fell to his knees, blood gurgling in his throat before collapsing on the ground and dying. Kiraya looked in the direction of the arrows and saw Lassarina, Finverior, and Assa standing close together, their bows still raised, while her father, Vilkas, and Farkas were running over to them.

"Papa," she whispered. Looking down at Naril, she smiled. "Naril, help is here!"

Her breath hitched and the smile left her lips when she saw the light had left his eyes and were staring up at the sky; an empty void of red. She sensed Rohan crawling over to them and he knelt beside her, staring at Naril sadly. With a heavy sigh, he reached over and gently shut the Dunmer's eyes closed.

"Why are you closing his eyes?" Kiraya demanded, her voice thick with tears. Looking back down at Naril, she started to shake him. "Wake up, you stupid Dunmer!"

"Kiraya," Rohan reached for her, but she just brushed him off.

"Open your eyes! Open your fucking eyes! I still haven't forgiven you!"

"Kiraya, stop it! He's dead!"

"Nay, he can't die! He had to earn my forgiveness for selling me to the Thalmor!" Sobbing loudly, she started to hit Naril's chest, thinking for some reason that she could beat him back to life. She hadn't even realized that her father had reached her until he was kneeling beside her and trying to pull her into his arms. "Nay! Leave me alone!"

She started to punch her father's chest, which he took without complaint as he pulled her to her feet and away from Naril's corpse. Kiraya shrieked when Lassarina and Finverior knelt beside the body and looked it over for a moment before looking at each other and shaking their heads grimly.

"Heal him!" Kiraya snapped at them, still struggling to get away from her father.

"Kiraya, enough," her father told her, his voice thick with emotion and his entire body shaking. "He's gone."

If it hadn't been for her father supporting her, Kiraya would have collapsed to the ground. Tears still streaming down her face, she turned into her father's embrace and wrapped her arms around his neck, her hysterical sobbing muffled by his neck. No matter how much she denied it, it didn't change the fact that Naril was dead.

* * *

><p><em>So there you have it. Naril is dead and all he wanted was forgiveness for what he did to Kiraya. I want you to know, that yes, what Naril did to Kiraya was terrible, but he really did feel remorse for it. He and Kiraya had become friends and betraying her the way he did had weighed heavy on him. I hated killing him, but I made sure that he at least tried to redeem himself in the end. Do you guys think he did?<em>

_Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to **Fave/Follow/Review! **Some Reviews might really get me inspired to write some more!_

_Stay tuned for more to come!_

_Love, _

_Mirage_


	29. Chapter 29

_What's this? A chapter update?! OMFG people, bring in the excitement!_

_I'm so sorry this took so long, you guys, I know you all deserve more than just one chapter every couple of months, but I've just been so busy! Since my last update I've tied the knot with my new husband and have started classed at the local community college as a full-time culinary student. I recently finished my Baking class and passed with an A+! I've made a bunch of new friends at my college too and have gotten involved in this club called Legion of Gamers, which if you can't guess, is a club for gamers and other kinds of nerds._

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I really do hope you all review. Seriously, nothing motivates me to write more than reading the reviews you all leave._

_Musical Inspiration for this Chapter:**Short Change Hero by The Heavy, Titanium by David Guetta ft. Sia, Elastic Heart by Sia, **_

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><p><span><strong>Chapter Twenty-Nine<strong>

**(14****th**** of Midyear, 205 4E)**

Kiraya's sobs suddenly ceased and her whole body went limp in Einarr's arms, causing him to panic. He dropped down to one knee and looked down at his daughter, frantically checking her, his heartbeat racing with each passing beat.

"Kiraya?" he said her name an octave higher than normal, a clear sign of his distress. Her eyes were closed and her head would have hung listlessly if it weren't for Einarr's hand cradling it. "Come on, kitten, open your eyes."

But her beautiful blue eyes remained shut, while his own misted with tears.

"Lassarina!" he called desperately to his sister. "I need your help!"

His sister abandoned her inspection of Rohan's still bleeding wound, trusting Finverior to deal with it, and immediately laid her hand on Kiraya's cheek. "She's burning up," she said softly, her hands lighting up with the golden glow of restoration magic. "Einarr, lay her down for me."

"Why is she unconscious?" he demanded as he did what his sister asked.

Lassarina's eyes flashed as she glared at him. "Einarr, have you taken a good look at her? She barely looks any better than I did when you rescued me from that Thalmor prison!"

Looking down, Einarr finally saw what the damage the last few weeks left on his daughter. Half-healed bruises covered any bit of exposed skin and she has scabbed over cuts and lacerations here and there. Her lower lip was split open and even in her unconscious state, she looked like she was in a constant state of discomfort. His gaze just swept across her entire body until he finally noticed something was missing.

"Where's her tail?" Einarr's horrified whisper sounded like a shout in the quiet forest.

At that moment, Assa let out a small shriek and practically leaped back from the body of the Thalmor soldier that had stood over Kiraya with a dagger only moments before. Vilkas made his way over to her and knelt beside the corpse, letting out a sound of disgust when he noticed whatever it was that caused Assa to have that reaction.

"What is it?" Lassarina demanded.

Looking exceptionally nauseated, Vilkas reluctantly tugged something out from the Thalmor agents belt and held it up for them to see. Einarr had to swallow the bile that filled his mouth at the sight of Kiraya's mutilated tail.

"He cut it off," Rohan explained while Finverior healed him. "Vindur . . . Kiraya blinded one of his eyes when she was trying to escape and to punish her, he cut her tail off."

Einarr stared down at his only child, already mentally killing himself over all she had to go through in the hands of the Thalmor. Because of who he and his sister were, she suffered far more than anyone should in their lives and now she would have to carry a permanent reminder of what happened to her for the rest of her life.

"Einarr, don't worry, we'll help her get through this," Lassarina assured him, tears forming in her eyes as she healed Kiraya.

Einarr barely acknowledge his sister, choosing to just stare at his daughter and stroke her head soothingly, ignoring the tears that were freely falling down his cheeks. "I'm so sorry, my kitten."

**oOo**

After healing Kiraya and Rohan, their group gathered the children, and Naril's body, and headed back to the Thalmor manor. Einarr wanted nothing more than to take his daughter away from the place where so much pain had been inflicted upon her, but he knew that Lassarina and Vilkas would want to search the place thoroughly for any hint as to where Elenwen was keeping Lyanna prisoner. After tucking his still unconscious daughter into one of the plush beds upstairs, Einarr sat with her, not wanting to stray to far in case she woke up.

"I wouldn't expect her to wake up any time soon," Assa's voice told him from the doorway.

Einarr turned to look at her and saw she was gazing at Kiraya's sleeping form with a haunted and sad look in her gray eyes. "And why is that?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

"If what she went through was half as bad as what they did to me in that prison, her body will need a few days to rest and heal." Assa sighed and walked over to the bed, standing by Kiraya's head and kneeling on the floor so she could replace the cold compress on his daughters head with a fresh one. "Once I got back to Windhelm, even after the court mage healed my wounds, my body still ran a fever and I was bedridden for days, barely able to stay conscious for more than an hour. My body was still in shock over what had happened to me and no amount of magic could heal what was done. Only time and rest gave me back my physical strength, but even today, I'm still exhausted from my time in that prison."

They were quiet for a few moments after what she had said, simply watching Kiraya sleep and listening to the sounds around the house. Downstairs the shuffling of papers indicated that Lassarina and Finverior were hard at work reading through all of the Thalmor files that were still in the house and outside Einarr could here the sound of Vilkas and Farkas digging a grave for Naril at Rohan's insistence. They had all wanted to leave the body to rot in the woods beside Vindur's corpse, but Rohan had begged them to give the Dunmer a proper burial, claiming that he was the whole reason that they managed to get Kiraya out of her prison.

_"He even healed her after Vindur cut off her tail!" _ Rohan had shouted at all of them. _"If he hadn't done that, Kiraya would have bled out!"_

A part of Einarr would always hate Naril for having sold his daughter to the Thalmor as a prisoner, but he will always be eternally grateful to both him and Rohan for rescuing her. He knew that Kiraya had to have cared for him in some way if she had reacted hysterically to his death and the guilt he had seen in the young Dunmer's eyes when they had been interrogating him back in Solitude showed that he had cared for her too.

"My father and sister have this haunted look in their eyes whenever they think no one is looking at them," Einarr said out of nowhere. "You have it sometimes too, Assa, as does Ulfric."

"It's the look anyone who suffered at the hands of the Thalmor share," Assa told him sadly, shutting her eyes to escape some memory. "The things they do. . . it stays with you and you can never escape it."

"And now my own child has to carry this horrible experience for the rest of her life."

Assa opened her eyes and looked at him. "With any luck, she'll be as strong as you and get through it."

Einarr scoffed and shook his head, "If you think I'm strong, then you are sorely mistaken. I'm a weak man, Assa. I can't keep my own family safe from the world. In less than a year, my sister and my daughter have been held prisoner and tortured, my niece and nephew abducted, and everyone around me having to live under the constant threat of the Thalmor."

"The Thalmor are a threat to all of us, not just you." She scowled a bit. "You think that just because you're the Dragonborn you're so special? The threaten all of us, our heritage and our way of life. What they did to your daughter, your sister and father, they do to anyone who defies them. They brought the heads of every Blade agent in Summerset and Valenwood just to prove a point!"

"I'm well aware of what they did, Assa. It happened the day I was born."

She paused, appearing shocked at the knowledge. "I had no idea."

"It's not exactly something I advertise."

Assa sighed and stood up, readying herself to leave, but pausing to look at Kiraya one last time. "They need to be stopped, Einarr, for the sake of Kiraya and every other man, woman and child who had their lives upended because of the Thalmor."

Einarr didn't reply, listening to her footsteps as they left the room and headed back downstairs to assist Lassarina and Finverior. Once he was alone with his daughter once more, he buried his hands in his palms and let out a heavy sigh. All of Skyrim was counting on him to drive the Thalmor out of their land and it was only now that he was really starting to feel the weight of that burden. He had always hated the Thalmor, for being a constant threat to his family and for the deeds that they had already committed against them, but he was also terrified of them and that fear was starting to take precedence over his hate. His family had been hurt too much by them and he just didn't think he could stand another incident like Kiraya's.

_I'm caught between a rock and a hard place, _he thought to himself, gently brushing some of Kiraya's matted hair away from her face. _I still need to help Lassarina get Lyanna back, but all I want to do is gather everyone and run. It's just getting too dangerous . . ._

"Ah, kitten, I just don't know what to do."

**oOo**

Later that night, Lassarina sat with Einarr at Kiraya's bedside, looking as exhausted as he felt. Her usually vibrant eyes were dull and listless, with dark circles surrounding them; though he had gotten used to seeing her look that way over the past couple of months. His sister had finished going through all the papers and journals that the Thalmor had been keeping in the manor about an hour ago and hadn't spoken a word since she sat down in the chair across from him. Einarr knew just by the desolate look on her face that she had found nothing hinting where Lyanna could be, so he didn't press her for information and resigned to sitting in subdued silence with her.

"This could be happening to Lyanna right now," his sister suddenly whispered, breaking the silence.

Einarr looked across the bed at his sister, but her gaze was firmly fixed on Kiraya. "You found Faolan unharmed, I'm sure that Lyanna is safe."

"But we don't know that." Tears began to well in her eyes and he frowned at the sight. "Kiraya is still just a child, Einarr, and they mutilated her. What if by taking back Faolan and fighting back against the Thalmor, we're antagonizing Elenwen into behaving more drastically."

"Rina, Elenwen didn't do this to Kiraya, one of her soldiers did."

"And you don't think they don't follow by example?" His sister looked up at him sharply, her hands curling into tight fists. "They're getting desperate, brother. We found the charred remains of several logs and journals in the fireplace. They're starting to feel cornered."

Einarr grimaced at that bit of news and looked down at the floor. If his sister was right and the Thalmor really _were _starting to feel cornered, then they very well might start behaving irrationally. When a person becomes desperate, they begin to do foolish things that could very well lead to devastating consequences.

"Einarr, what if Elenwen takes Lyanna away from Skyrim and I never see her again?" his sister asked in a terrified murmur.

Einarr raised his head and hardened his gaze. "I will never let that happen."

"What if you can't stop it? We have no idea where she is and have no leads."

"Rina, we're going to find her, I promise you."

His sister shut her eyes and raked her fingers through her short hair in frustration, grabbing at the ends when she came to them. "Gods, I just feel so helpless right now. This feeling is far worse than the helplessness I felt when I was imprisoned. I'd gladly go back to that if it meant Lyanna would be safe and sound with Faolan in Whiterun."

Einarr glared at Lassarina then. "Don't even say something like that. You know how distraught Vilkas would be if you were taken by them again."

_And me, _he thought quietly to himself.

If there was one thing Einarr was taking away from this whole experience with Kiraya, it's that he wouldn't be able to stand another person her loved being held against their will by the Thalmor. His heart wouldn't be able to take the endless worrying and fear that came with every moment they would be imprisoned.

"I know, I just don't know what more I can do to try and get Lyanna back," Lassarina said mournfully. "I'm starting to get as desperate as the Thalmor."

Einarr opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off when Kiraya suddenly groaned and shifted on the bed. Heart racing, he moved to sit right on the bed and gently stroked her hair, watching as her eyes opened. He couldn't help but smile in relief at the sight of his daughter waking and taking in her surroundings with bleary eyes, only to frown when those eyes filled with alarm and confusion.

"Easy, kitten," he murmured to her softly to try and make her feel at ease. "Everything's all right, you're safe in bed."

"Papa?" she croaked, her voice hoarse from all the smoke she must have inhaled earlier. Her eyes turned to Lassarina. "Aunt Rina?"

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Lassarina said softly, relief evident in her eyes. "You gave us quite the scare."

Kiraya tried to sit up, but Einarr kept her down. "Don't try and get up just yet, _ja'fa._ You have a fever."

"Where am I?" she asked.

"You're safe, that's all that matters."

She relaxed for a moment, groaning in pain. "Where's Rohan?"

"He's resting in another room," Lassarina explained. "He lost a lot of blood from that wound he had."

"Is he okay?"

Lassarina nodded with a gentle smile. "Aye, sweetling, he's just fine. Finverior and I made sure to heal him right away, he's just feeling a little weak and tired is all."

Kiraya sighed softly and close her eyes. Einarr reached out and brushed her matted hair out away from her face, frowning at the sight of the fading bruises that marred it. Despite Naril's efforts in trying to heal her, Lassarina and Finverior had said that she still had some severe internal bruising and a few cracked ribs when they found her. Even after they had healed her, they couldn't do anything about her weakened state and the fever that was currently plaguing her. His daughter just looked so pitiful that it physically hurt him to see her like this.

"What happened to Naril?" Kiraya suddenly asked, her eyes now open and shining with unshed tears.

Einarr glanced at his sister and she nodded grimly to him. It wouldn't be right to lie or sugarcoat it for Kiraya; she deserved the truth. "He didn't make it, kitten. I'm so sorry."

Her eyes squeezed shut and a few tears fell down her cheeks. "What did you do with his body?"

"Rohan insisted we give him a proper burial, so we dug him a grave right outside, beneath a pine tree. He even carved an epitaph into the tree."

"What does it say?" Her voice cracked and more tears fell from her eyes.

"It says, 'Naril; Died fighting for her forgiveness,'" Lassarina quoted, her eyes watering slightly.

At that moment, Kiraya broke down crying and Einarr couldn't stop himself from reaching out and pulling her into a tight hug. There was nothing he could tell his daughter to make this better. Kiraya had suffered through the death of a loved one before; Skjor, Kodlak, Tilma, even when they had been tricked into thinking Lassarina had been killed. But Einarr knew that Naril's death was the one that was going to haunt her for many years to come. The young Dunmer had given his life helping Kiraya escape and Einarr knew that his daughter must blame herself for it.

"Kitten, I know how much you must be hurting right now, but I swear we'll get you through this," Einarr told her as she sobbed into his shoulder.

"He asked me for forgiveness before he died and I couldn't even give him that," Kiraya cried, her little body shaking and heaving with each sob. "I'm a terrible person."

"Nay, you're not a terrible person, Kiraya."

"I wish I had forgiven him."

"We all have regrets when someone we care about dies, Kiraya," Lassarina told her, coming to sit on the bed with her and Einarr and rubbing the girl's back. "I'm sure wherever he is, he knows you regret not forgiving him."

Kiraya pulled away from Einarr then and blinked her tear-filled eyes at him and Lassarina. "Why did he have to die?"

Einarr swallowed around the lump in his throat and sighed heavily. "Sometimes bad things just happen, kitten, and there's nothing we can do to prevent it. You couldn't have prevented Naril's death anymore than we could have prevented Elenwen from taking your aunt and cousins."

His daughter gasped at the mention of Lassarina's children and looked at her aunt. "Aunt Rina, I saw Lyanna!"

Lassarina stiffened at Kiraya's words and she grabbed her shoulders in a tight grip. "You saw her?" she demanded. "Where is she? Is she safe? Was she okay?"

When Kiraya hesitated, Einarr saw his sister beginning to panic and pried her fingers off of his daughter before she bruised her. "You're going to hurt her, Lassarina."

He watched his sister force herself to take a deep breath and kept her hands in tight little fists on her lap. "I'm sorry, but, Kiraya, you might have the only lead to Lyanna."

"Elenwen has her," his daughter said, her voice shaking. "She brought her here days ago and they left the same day."

"Why did Elenwen bring her?"

Shame appeared on Kiraya's face in that moment. "It was to interrogate me . . . Elenwen knew I wouldn't talk, so she put Lyanna in the cell across from mine and she . . ."

When Kiraya trailed off, Lassarina's panic flared once again and Einarr had to grab her wrists to prevent her from gripping his daughter. "What did that sadistic bitch do to her?!" his sisters yell rang throughout the manor.

Einarr heard alarmed voices downstairs, followed by hurried footsteps. Quick as a flash, Vilkas appeared in the doorway, looking at his wife with concern. "Lassarina, we heard your shout from downstairs."

Tears started to freely flow from Lassarina's eyes as she got off the bed and turned desperately to her husband. "Elenwen brought Lyanna here and did something awful to her, I just know it!"

Vilkas immediately shared Lassarina's panic and turned to Einarr. "How do you know this?"

"Kiraya, what did Elenwen do to Lyanna?" Einarr asked his daughter, his voice a little firmer than he intended.

Kiraya was shaking all over as she answered, "She put Lyanna in the cell across from me and threw fireballs around her to make me talk."

An awful silence fell around all of them, soon replaced by Lassarina's distraught moans. Einarr felt his blood run cold at the knowledge of Elenwen torturing a two-year-old child with fear and started to fear every minute Lyanna was with Elenwen even more than he was before. He saw Vilkas trying to comfort Lassarina by holding her close to him, but noticed that his skin was several shades paler than it was before and he looked like he was about to be sick. Reaching out to Kiraya with a shaking hand, Einarr hugged her, thankful once more that she didn't have to suffer at the hands of the Thalmor anymore.

"Elenwen didn't hurt her," Kiraya said, wrapping her arms around Einarr. "But she scared her really bad. I didn't have a choice and I told her anything that might make her stop. I couldn't stand hearing Lyanna cry like that."

"No one would be upset with you for giving her information in that situation, Kiraya," Einarr assured her. "But we have to know, what exactly did you tell her?"

"I told her how many of Aunt Rina's thieves are helping her find Lyanna. I also told her about Ulfric's unborn child." Kiraya looked down in shame and shook her head. "I'm so sorry."

Einarr looked at his sister and Vilkas and knew that this wasn't good. If Elenwen knew all this, there was no telling what could happen next. She could send assassins to either kill or abduct Urska Stone-Fist, or she could just kill Lyanna since she was essentially a useless hostage now without a claim to her name. He knew that Lassarina was realizing this too as she halted her tears and had a new look of dread upon her face.

"Do you have any idea where they might have taken Lyanna, Kiraya?" Lassarina asked, her voice merely a whisper.

Kiraya gave a stiff nod. "I heard her say something about the Embassy."

Einarr watched his sister stand perfectly still for several quiet moments before she grabbed Vilkas by the hand and started to pull him out of the room. "I need to be alone with Vilkas for a while. I need to think."

"Lassarina, don't go doing anything foolish," Einarr pleaded.

"Nay, I won't let her," Vilkas assured him.

But as he watched his sister and her husband walk out of the room, both of them shooting calculative and determined looks at each other, he knew something unpleasant was just around the corner. So when he woke the next morning to find Lassarina and Vilkas gone, he wasn't the least bit surprised when he read the note they left behind that simply said:

_Don't follow us._

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><p><em>Yeah, Lassarina went and ran off again to do her own thing, but at least this time, she took Vilkas with her. What do you guys think? Do you think that together, they have what it takes to rescue Lyanna without any back-up? Do you think that Einarr and the others will heed their words and not follow them? Leave a review with your thoughts!<em>

_Hope you all enjoyed the chapter! Don't forget to **Fave/Follow/Review! **Some Reviews might really get me inspired to write some more!_

_Stay tuned for more to come!_

_Love, _

_Mirage_


	30. Chapter 30

_Hey everyone! I'm back!_

_I apologize for the long delay in adding the new chapter, but you will not believe how busy I've been with school. I'm on campus three days out of the week nearly all day and I spend the rest of the week doing excruciatingly long Bookkeeping homework and Business Math for my online classes. I'm really bad at math, so it usually takes me hours to do the problems. I've also been elected as the Event Coordinator for my Gamer Club on campus and that takes up a lot of my Fridays since those are usually days we have events. It's just been so exhausting that I've been struggling to find the time and energy to write._

_I'm going to try to do better from now on for all of you, cause you guys make me so happy knowing that you're all reading this. Every time I get a review, the biggest smile comes to my face and it gives me motivation to write for you all._

_I hope you all enjoy this chapter. It's going to be a little dark, mainly cause I always intended for this book to have a multitude of messed up, dark moments._

_Musical Inspiration for this chapter: **Take Me to Church by Hozier, Whataya Want From Me by Adam Lambert, Elastic Heart by Sia, I Will Not Bow by Breaking Benjamin **_

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><p><strong>(16<strong>**th**** of Midyear, 205 4E)**

"There's the tree," Lassarina murmured softly, pointing to a young pine with words carved into it.

Vilkas approached the tree and traced his fingers across the carved letters, reading aloud as he did. "'Malborn, he died with honor, helping the Dragonborn. May he never be forgotten.'"

Smiling sadly, Lassarina walked over to some red mountain flowers that were growing nearby and picked a handful of them, laying the rough bouquet at the base of the tree. "It's thanks to Malborn that we managed to get into the Embassy last year. One of my biggest regrets is not being able to save him. After we burned his body, we scattered the ashes around this tree." Looking at the state of the tree, she placed a hand on the bark. "He'll always live on in here."

Vilkas squeezed her shoulder gently before moving away and surveying the dark area around them. "So you said that the secret entrance was around here?"

Pulling her thoughts away from Malborn and regaining focus, Lassarina turned away from the pine. Breaking into the Thalmor Embassy was going to be a lot harder this time around, especially since Elenwen had their daughter hostage within. When she had made the decision to mount this rescue of Lyanna she had momentarily thought of going by herself, but it seemed Vilkas knew her better than she knew herself and had simply stated he was going with her once they were out of range of Einarr's enhanced hearing. She hadn't fought against him when they left the manor two days ago and had given him enough information of the embassy's layout to formulate a plan for breaking in.

"Once we get in through the trapdoor, you do whatever it is that turns you invisible and I'll keep drinking the invisibility potions," Vilkas said as he followed her through the trees.

"Do you have the enchanted jewelry?" she asked him, spotting the entrance to the small cave where the bodies of the Thalmor's victims ended up. "Otherwise they'll hear your every footstep."

Vilkas flashed her the rings on his hand and lifted his necklace in his wordless reply. Once she was sure they were ready, Lassarina led him into the cave and had her bow drawn in case another troll had moved in. They quickly climbed the small ledge and before they knew it, they were standing beneath the trap door, Vilkas's hand ready to push it open.

"_Laas,_" Lassarina whispered, red auras appearing in her vision.

"Are there any in the dungeon?" her husband asked quietly.

"Aye, there's two of them, but they aren't moving. Might have fallen asleep."

As quietly as possible, they went through the trap door and listened for the Thalmor soldier that were in the dungeon. Lassarina was the one who braved moving forward first, being extra cautious with her foot placement so they'd never see her coming. As she turned the corner, she finally spotted the two Thalmor asleep in their chairs, one of them with their mouth hanging open as he snored. Rage building inside of her, she drew her dagger from her belt and quickly sliced their throats, covering their mouths so they wouldn't make a single sound. Vilkas came up behind her and shot her a grim expression.

"A bit ruthless, love," he sighed, pushing the bodies out of their chairs and shoving them under the nearby table.

Lassarina shot him a look of fury. "They kidnapped our son and daughter, Vilkas. They still have Lyanna. They had Kiraya imprisoned and tortured her! They tortured and mutilated a thirteen-year-old girl! A sliced throat is the least they deserve after all the pained they've put our family through."

Vilkas turned to her after hiding the bodies and she held her breath at the grim and sad look in his eyes. "I just hope that by the end of this, you haven't lost your humanity, Lassarina. Our children don't need to grow up with a mother that's without any empathy."

"I'm still empathetic, Vilkas, just not to these monsters."

Vilkas nodded, but didn't seem to believe her all too much. It hurt to think that her husband thought she was turning into a cold, ruthless woman, but she couldn't help the animosity she felt toward the Thalmor. Those four months she spent as Elenwen's captive were always going to haunt her, right up to the day she died. She honestly thought that even death couldn't free her from her feelings of hate and fear. It wasn't all too hard to understand why Ulfric was so eager to go to war with them and the Empire if he suffered just as badly as she did.

Pushing her troubled thoughts aside for the time being, Lassarina turned toward the prison cells, making sure there weren't any prisoners inside. Upon discovering that Vilkas and she were the only living beings in the dungeon, Lassarina led her husband toward the stairs that would take them to the main section of Elenwen's solar. With how late in the night it was she prayed that the Thalmor Ambassador was fast asleep and her guard limited to provide them with an easy rescue. Before opening the door out of the dungeons, Lassarina whispered her detect life Shout and saw no immediate opposition beyond it.

"Strange how few guards there are," Vilkas whispered to her as they closed the door behind them. "Do you think perhaps Lyanna isn't here?"

Lassarina didn't answer, using the remaining power of her Shout to survey the building. She counted four aura's inside the building, all of them upstairs. When her eyes landed on the toddler shaped aura that was laying horizontally a few feet away from two larger, standing aura's, Lassarina couldn't stop the tears that pricked her eyes.

"Lyanna's here," she informed Vilkas, her voice cracking a bit. "She's upstairs with two people guarding her."

Vilkas's eyes shone in relief before they hardened again. "How do we lure them downstairs?"

The auras faded from her vision and she was forced to Shout again. "_Laas._"

As she stared at the two large auras, she was shocked to see them moving away from Lyanna, heading down a flight of stairs. Shuffling closer to the nearby flight of stairs, she was just able to make out what they were saying to each other.

"– sure we should be taking a break?" one Highborn accented voice asked.

"Elenwen and the brat are fast asleep," a second voice assured. "We can have something to eat and a few drinks before going back. Trust me, I do this every night."

Their voices faded and Lassarina quickly, but silently, moved up the stairs to the main floor, peering around the corner to make sure the soldiers were out of sight. She waved Vilkas over and they both crept through the hall, setting up the staircase that would take them upstairs to Lyanna. She led her husband to the room their daughter was being held in, not surprised to find it locked, not that it made any difference to a thief like Lassarina.

Grabbing her lockpicks from her belt pouch, Lassarina set to work, getting right at eye level with the keyhole while Vilkas played lookout. The lock proved to be quite a challenge, breaking three of her picks without any warning, making her believe that the mechanism within was one of the highest quality that could only be produced by a thief. But Lassarina was determined to get past this unexpected obstacle and worry over how Elenwen could have gotten a lock of this quality later. Sweat had begun beading on her forehead when she finally heard the telltale click of the tumblers rolling into place and Lassarina let out the breath she hadn't even realized she was holding in. The lock had definitely tested her capabilities, but she was proud to have conquered it and held her head higher as she slowly swung the door open.

A frightened whimper caused Lassarina's heart to clench and the sight of a small body squirming beneath blankets spurred her into action. As she and Vilkas drew closer to the bed, Lyanna started to cry, the tone clearly speaking her distress and fear. Concerned for her daughter and not wanting her cries to draw anyone to the room, Lassarina drew the blankets off the small body, shushing her quietly.

"Hush now, little one," Lassarina whispered soothingly, her voice thick with emotion and tears freely escaping from the corner of her eyes. "It's okay, baby, Mama is here."

Lyanna struggled for a moment, her cries rising in volume, but when she finally looked at her parents, recognition appeared in her tear-filled eyes and she tried reaching out for them, only to be restrained by something under the blankets. Shoving some of the blankets away, Lassarina was alarmed to see that her daughters ankles had been shackled to the bed, her fury rising when she saw the skin underneath rubbed raw.

"Sweet Akatosh," Vilkas muttered tightly, sitting down on the bed and trying to comfort his daughter. "Who does this to a baby?"

"Elenwen," Lassarina growled, healing her daughters injuries with a quick restoration spell before setting to work on unlocking the shackles.

Thankfully the locking mechanism on the shackles was sub par and she heard the click of them unlocking. Her victory was short lived, for a second click at the foot of the bed drew Lassarina's attention to a wire that disappeared into what she realized was a hollow bedpost.

"A trap!" Lassarina shouted, right before darts from each side of the room shot out of the walls.

The darts pierced her body in several places and were clearly tipped with some sort of drug, her vision quickly starting to go black and thoughts becoming muddled. Lassarina tried to get to her feet, failing miserably and only succeeding to stay up a total of two seconds before collapsing on the floor beneath her. Before the darkness finally took her, the last thing she saw was three beings entering the room.

**oOo**

When Lassarina finally came to, her vision was hazy and she felt lightheaded. As she blinked to clear her vision and became more alert, she noticed that her arms were restrained to the wall by iron shackles, restricting her movement. Squirming a bit to test their tightness, she ended up flinching when her skin got pinched every time she tried to shift her wrists.

_They took my armor too, _Lassarina finally noted to herself when she glanced down to find herself in her smalls and nothing else.

A quick survey of her cell confirmed what she already guessed; she was locked up in the Thalmor embassy's cellar prison. Cursing inwardly, Lassarina couldn't believe she allowed herself to become prisoner to the Thalmor once more. She should have figured that getting Lyanna back wouldn't have been as easy as it had been when they rescued Faolan, especially when their daughter's prison was the enemy base of operations. And now, not only had she utterly failed in rescuing her daughter, but Vilkas prisoner too.

Remembering her husband, Lassarina quickly looked beyond the bars of her cell and tried to spot Vilkas. But their captors had left their prison void of any left after they had seemingly deposited them in the cells. Despite the darkness, she thought she could make out the limp shape of someone shackled to the wall in the cell beside her own.

"Vilkas," she called out to him, breaking the maddening silence surrounding her. "Vilkas, is that you?"

"Lassarina?" the figure in the cell groaned and she felt an immense relief as she recognized her husband's voice.

"Aye, love, it's me. Are you all right?"

Vilkas let out another groan. "I feel like I spent the better part of two days drinking and it's the morning after." She heard him shift a bit and suddenly curse loudly. "Gods be damned, they fucking have us imprisoned."

"It was a trap. They knew we'd be coming for Lyanna and were more than ready for us. Our daughter was just bait used to catch us."

She could see his shape moving around a lot as he muttered to himself. "I can barely move my wrists in these damned shackles. Can you move any?"

"Barely," she answered bitterly. "And what movement I do have isn't enough to get out of these. I think we're stuck."

She heard Vilkas curse and struggle some more before finally giving up. "Don't worry, love, we'll figure something out. With any luck your brother is a day or two behind us."

"If he even comes. I left him that note telling him not to follow us."

"When have you ever known Einarr to follow anyone's orders but his own? He's just about as stubborn and willful as you are." Vilkas chuckled then, though there was a tinge of weariness in it. "Nay, he'll get here before we know it. Until then, we'll keep trying to get out ourselves."

"And endure whatever torture Elenwen has in store for us," Lassarina whispered softly, trying to keep her body from shaking.

The realization that she was once more a prisoner to Elenwen hit her like a bucket of freezing water and brought with it a terror she hadn't felt since she was last imprisoned. Lassarina tried to get a handle on her breathing, but she could hear the short, faint gasps escaping her as her body trembled like a leaf and sweat started to bead on her skin.

"Lassarina, love, what's wrong?" she heard Vilkas ask her from his cell, his voice full of concern.

She opened her mouth to reply to her husband, but instead of words, a mouthful of bile fell from her lips, splattering on the floor.

"Lassarina, talk to me!" Vilkas begged her.

Tears pricked in her eyes and her voice shook. "We need to get out of here, Vilkas. I don't know if I'm strong enough to face this all over again."

"Don't worry, love, I won't let them touch you."

Lassarina shook her head and didn't bother trying to argue with her husband when she knew the truth was set in stone. They were both chained to the wall in separate cells below the Thalmor embassy dungeon with no armor or weapons on them and several trained soldiers who had the perfect leverage to keep them subdued at all times; their daughter.

Just as she felt the tears pour over, the door to the dungeon opened and light filled the room. Lassarina looked to the light and kept herself from practically sobbing at the sight of Elenwen descending down the steps with her agents in tow. She maintained eye contact with the evil woman as she approached the cell and stood behind the bars with a satisfied smirk on her face.

"How the mighty have fallen," Elenwen laughed, sneering at Lassarina. "Hope you enjoyed your brief respite, Lassarina, because you won't be getting another for a long time."

"Go to Oblivion, you evil witch," Vilkas spat at her.

Elenwen's golden gaze shifted to the adjacent cell and she smiled cruelly. "Ah, yes, it seems you brought with you another toy for me to play with, didn't you? I so do enjoy gifts, Lassarina, especially ones that seem like they'd be hard to break."

"Leave him out of this, Elenwen!" Lassarina snapped, finally finding the courage to speak. "He was just foolish enough to follow me here. It's me you really wanted."

But the Thalmor ambassador ignored her and continued to stare at Vilkas, motioning for one of her agents to unlock the cell door. Once her bidding was done, the Altmer woman stepped into the cell until she stood just in front of Vilkas, observing him closely.

"There's something familiar about you, Nord," she murmured as she studied him. "But what is it?"

Vilkas growled menacingly at her and spat at her face.

Wiping the glob of saliva from her cheek, Elenwen chuckled wholeheartedly. "Of course, that's the same scowl I use to see on that brats face whenever I went to see her. That must make you the father. Your spawn is a quick learner, Nord, she now knows the proper expression when she sees me coming should be one of fear."

"You heartless bitch!" Lassarina screamed, fighting against her restraints. "You take pleasure in making a helpless child suffer?"

"I take pleasure in making you suffer, sister of Ulfric." Elenwen's gaze turned dark as she turned to face her through the bars. "It can't be helped if you offer me so many ways to accomplish it."

"Release my daughter, Elenwen, I give you only one warning."

Elewen started to cackle. "You dare make threats when I hold all the leverage and you don't even have the freedom to move or a weapon?"

"I don't need to move or have a weapon to kill you from right here," Lassarina growled as she sucked in a breath, getting ready to Shout.

But before she could utter so much as a letter, a knife flashed out of Elenwen's sleeve and was pressed against Vilkas's throat. "You so much as whisper in the Dragon Tongue and his blood will cover the floor."

Lassarina bit down on her tongue to prevent the Words of Power from escaping, tasting a bit of blood but succeeding. When Elenwen saw her cooperate, she smirked and gently ran the edge of the blade against the scruff on Vilkas's neck.

"That's your first warning, dear," she explained as she shaved her husband's neck. "Be grateful I even gave you that much. You should probably know that if you try and make an escape I have someone ready to end your toddlers life at the slightest hint of trouble."

"Please, don't, she's just a baby," Lassarina pleaded.

"If you have even a shred of morality inside your blackened heart, you'll leave our daughter out of this," Vilkas said stiffly.

Elenwen finished off shaving his face and tapped his cheek. "There, now doesn't he look much better without that ghastly shadow of a beard, Lassarina?"

"I swear to the gods, Elenwen!" Lassarina growled, trying once more to struggle out of her chains.

Elenwen then snapped her fingers and motioned to Vilkas and then Lassarina. "Put him on the rack and tie her to a chair in front of it."

Her agents entered her and Vilkas's cells and they were already struggling against them. Lassarina managed to kick one of the soldiers hard when he reached to unshackle her and she saw Vilkas take a swing at the other. Their struggles were quickly halted, however, when Elenwen sent volts of electricity at them and they fell to the ground screaming. Once subdued, the Thalmor had an easier time getting them to wear Elenwen ordered and Lassarina found herself strapped to a chair in front of a torture rack that her husband was on.

"Why put him on the rack when I'm the one you want, Elenwen?" Lassarina asked, not taking her eyes off Vilkas as he tried to break out of the strapping by sheer strength.

"I already answered that, Lassarina," Elenwen chuckled, fire forming on her fingertips. "I take pleasure in making you suffer." She approached Vilkas and one of her agents handed her a metal rod, which she placed in the palm of her flame enveloped hand. "And while I did very much enjoy making you suffer physically, I'd like to take a crack at seeing how you break when I torture the man you love."

Tears streamed down Lassarina's face as she strained against her bindings. "Nay, please, Elenwen, don't hurt him!"

"Lassarina, love, look at me," Vilkas urged her.

Lassarina turned her tear-filled gaze to him and could see him trying to reassure her with a forced smile, completely contradicted by the rapid rise and fall of his chest. "Vilkas, I'm so sorry I dragged you into this."

"Nay, love, it's fine, _I'll_ be fine. I can take it, I promise you. Just don't let that bitch get in your head. You're strong, Lassarina."

"Such a sweet thing to say," Elenwen cooed mockingly. "But clearly, Vilkas, you've never witnessed just how easy it is to break your precious wife."

With a malicious gleam in her eye, Elenwen took the now white-hot metal rod and pressed it against Vilkas's chest. His whole body tensed from the excruciating pain he was feeling, but he managed to not let out anymore than a groan to express his distress.

"They never do scream with the first one, do they?" Elenwen sighed, looking at her agents who stood off to the side, expressionless. "But no matter, I'll make him eventually."

Lassarina watched in agony for the next hour as her husband was burned again and again by the hot metal. The acrid smell of burning flesh was permanently embedded within her nose and tears of frustration continued to flow down her cheeks. To Vilkas's credit, he didn't give Elenwen the satisfaction of hearing him scream once, which only served to fuel her anger. The Thalmor ambassador tossed the metal rod aside as she glared at Vilkas's sweat covered body and began pacing angrily.

"Well, this one is really testing my patience," she muttered to Lassarina. "They do breed them strong up here, but normally they always scream by the time I'm done burning."

Lassarina stared at Vilkas and felt her heart breaking at all the burns criss-crossing over his chest, nearly an identical pattern to the ones she bore on her legs. "He's stronger than anyone you've ever tortured. My brother had the will of a child compared to my husband."

"I guess that means I'll have to take it up a notch."

Turning her head to look at Elenwen, she saw the woman produce some jagged looking daggers from a nearby table and coat them with some sort of liquid from a large vial.

"What is that?" Lassarina asked, clenching her fists.

"Oh, this? This is a special poison I've had made for me. When you coat a blade and then cut someone with it, they'll feel as if their very soul is on fire even long after the torture has ended. I've seen many of my more difficult toys go mad from the experience. One even went as far as tearing off his own arm."

Lassarina's eyes widen and she started to fight even harder against her bindings, causing Elenwen to give a condescending chuckle.

"My dear, if you haven't managed to squirm out yet, I highly doubt it's going to happen now."

So Lassarina had to watch in mute horror as Elenwen turned to her husband and proceeded to make the first cut on his forearm. Vilkas's whole body immediately went tense as blood beaded on his skin and he released a strained groan that brought a cruel smirk to Elenwen's lips.

"Yes, it won't be long now."

Vilkas managed to endure five more cuts before he finally gave Elenwen what she wanted and screamed.

**oOo**

The torture lasted for days. They were denied sleep, food, and every day Elenwen would spend hours physically torturing Vilkas while emotionally torturing Lassarina. Her tears had long dried up and she sat in the corner of her cell feeling dead inside. Her mind just wanted to disassociate with her body and part of it was just constantly begging her to just end it in any way she can. Another part of her mind still continued to resist, to be stubborn and not allow her to give up, not so long as her family was subjected to the danger that was Elenwen.

She turned her dull and listless gaze to her husband in the adjoining cell. He was lying completely still on the cold ground, the only indication that he was still alive being the shallow rise and fall of his chest. Forcing her body to move, she managed to crawl over to the bars that separated them and stared at him. His eyes her closed and his body covered in the injuries left behind from Elenwens torture. His chest covered in so many burns that it was difficult to find any skin that wasn't affected and a myriad of shallow cuts that were violently red decorated the length of both his arms.

Her gaze drifted to his hand and she couldn't help but since at the sight of it. All of his fingers had been smashed by Thalmor agents when Elenwen gave them a turn at torturing Vilkas so she could rest. They had beaten him so mercilessly that Lassarina went hoarse from screaming at them to stop. They only did so long after her husband had passed out from the abuse and dumped his body carelessly in his cell, right before tossing a sobbing Lassarina into the adjoining one. Both of them were so weak from the torture and lack of food that their captors didn't even bother restraining them anymore.

That had been only a few hours ago and Vilkas still hadn't woken up. Reaching through the bars, Lassarina gently placed her hand on top of Vilkas's and stoked the skin softly.

"I'm so sorry this had to happen to you, Vilkas," she whispered, her body trembling.

Vilkas let out a moan of pain and opened his eyes slightly, staring up at the ceiling in confusion before turning his head to her. "It's not your fault, love."

Her lips quivered. "How can you still say that after all we've had to endure because of me?"

"Because, you didn't force me to come with you, I chose to. I knew there was a risk of being captured, but I still followed you because I wanted our daughter back. Even if I had known our capture was a certainty, I still would have risked it if there had been the slightest chance we could escape with Lyanna."

"I only pray to the gods that she's all right."

In the days since they were captured, Elenwen hadn't divulged any information about their daughters well-being or even allowed them to see her, no matter how much they begged. Instead, she constantly reminded them that if they were to try anything stupid, it would be Lyanna that would suffer the consequences. It was very effective manipulation on Elenwens part, since it kept Vilkas and Lassarina extremely subdued.

"With any luck, your brother is already on his way to help us," Vilkas groaned as he forced himself to sit up.

"Vilkas, you shouldn't strain yourself," Lassarina scolded him. "Who knows when she'll be back? You need to save your strength."

"Saving my strength won't do any good right now, love, she'll torture me regardless of my health."

Just as he spoke, the door to the dungeon opened and they both turned their heads to see Elenwen entering alone, closing the door behind her. "Have you two had a nice rest?"

"Please, Elenwen, no more," Lassarina begged, uncaring of the fact that she was pleading with the enemy. "If you keep on torturing him like this, you'll kill him!"

"Lassarina, don't even try reasoning with her," Vilkas spat weakly.

Elenwen chuckled. "Well, if he dies, it'll be a painful blow to you, and I'll just have to move on to torturing someone else you love. It's been so many years since I've actually made a child bleed, so I'm greatly looking forward to it."

At the mention of her possibly doing bodily harm to their daughter, Lassarina was on her feet and gripping the bars tightly as she glared at her. "You're Molag Bal incarnate, you bitch! Only the greatest of evil would take pleasure in harming a child!" She pressed her forehead against the bars and squeezed her eyes shut. "What do you want from me, Elenwen? What must I do for all of this to stop?"

"Ah, see, now you're asking the right questions, Lassarina, because over the past couple of days I've been wracking my brain trying to come up with better ways to make you and your family suffer and I finally struck inspiration today. All you have to do is make a little deal with me."

Lassarina opened her eyes and looked up at the ambassador. "A deal? What kind of deal?"

Behind her, Vilkas growled, "Don't make a deal with a demon, Lassarina!"

She whirled around to face her husband. "If it ends this torture, what choice do I have?"

"Please, love, I can take whatever she throws at me. I'm stronger than you think I am right now."

"Vilkas, if she keeps torturing you then you'll die! And then she'll move onto Lyanna!"

"She's bluffing!"

"Am I?" Elenwen intervened, knocking on the wooden door behind her.

Suddenly, the familiar sound of Lyanna crying could be heard through the door and both Lassarina and Vilkas stiffened, fearing for their daughter. As her cries were the only sound that could be heard, husband and wife stared at each other, having a silent conversation with their eyes. After several tortuous moments, Vilkas finally sighed angrily and looked away, his eyes bright with what looked like tears. Feeling tears of her own beginning to form, Lassarina turned to Elenwen, looking broken and defeated.

"Let's make a deal, Elenwen."

* * *

><p><em>Never make a deal with the devil, because odds are the price will be too high. Elenwen could be the bride of Molag Bal or Malacath with how evil I portray her. Honestly, I don't take pleasure in making my characters suffer, but the way I see it, this war had to be a lot darker than they portrayed it in the game. People had to have gotten hurt, both physically and emotionally, and the ones Elenwen got her hands on experienced the absolute worst of it.<em>

_Anyways, don't forget to **Favorite/Follow/Review** and I'll see you all next chapter._

_Much Love,_

_Mirage_


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